A Different Game of Cat and Mouse
by Marcus Sylenus
Summary: Christmas in July challenge - M/L, of course. Rated a Mild M for language and adult situations. See summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

_**This story is for Montana-Rosalie for the Christmas in July Challenge. **_

_**Things You Don't Want to See in Your Story:**_

_1) Zack_

_2) anything season 2_

_**Wish List :**_

_1) M/L kissage_

_2) Logan catching Max listening to "Halo" by Beyonce on repeat_

_3) Tinga_

_4) a thunderstorm_

The story is set three days after Rising; Logan is just regaining his legs.

Disclaimer: I don't owe them, just playing with them.

**A Different Game of Cat and Mouse**

**Chapter One**

Logan Cale opened his eyes slowly, blinking as the rare morning light hit his face.

He moaned in pain as he stretched. His arms and shoulders ached, his back was killing him, and his legs were beginning to cramp...

His eyes shot wide open as he sat up, looking at his left leg twitching under the covers. It hurt. It hurt like hell.

He couldn't remember being so happy before in his life.

No, that was a lie. He did remember a time when he was as happy, if not more. He remembered three nights before, after he had stood for Max for the first time after the shooting, remembered her delighted smile, her beautiful, luminous brown eyes wide in happiness for him. He also remembered her wicked smile as she dragged him to her baby and let him drive them both through the empty streets. And he remembered the warmth of her body seeping into his as she leaned to shout instructions at him, the incredible feel of her firm breasts pressed against his back...

Yeah, he had a lot to be happy about in the last few days. And he owed every last scrap of it to Max.

Thinking back at that night, he allowed himself to revisit every feel, every smell and sight of her. He had always been attracted to Max, but after the shooting he had never allowed himself to think about her that way, although she was a common visitor in his dreams.

From the moment he first saw Max Logan had felt a connection with her, a bond that drew him to her, and he thought she felt something similar. After all, she had come back after the shooting, and saved him from being blown to pieces at the hospital. There had been several awkward, very intense moments between them, like the time he had been thrown from the roof of the Steinlitz Hotel, only to have Max jump right behind him to snatch him from a messy death. After they had crashed into a room the adrenalin haze had dissipated a little to find them sprawled on the bed, Max on top of him, eyes locked, their lips almost grazing each other's...and then there was the dream he'd had after his surgery, waking only to find Max laying waste to his lunch...god, that woman would eat anything!

His smile widened as he felt his body react at his memories of Max. Yes, he _was_ whole again. Perhaps now he could do more than dream about her...

Logan sat up and swung his legs to the side of the bed. Walking was still a chore for him, but he relished the challenge, embraced every cramp and ache as his legs grew stronger, pushing himself until his body trembled with the effort, and then pushed some more. Bling was not amused, of course. He was worried about his miraculous recovery, and whether it would last. Logan refused to even consider the possibility of his body failing him again.

While his dark mood and thoughts about his disability had been pushed away, into the far corners of his mind he still felt some flashes of hopelessness and despair sometimes, in the dark of night. He still was surprised when his body responded as it used to. He still expected to wake up to find it had only been a dream, and he was still bound to the damn chair. In the almost three weeks since he had first started to regain feeling in his legs he'd had those fears less and less, but they were still there. He knew now that he would not be back in the chair, one way or another. If this wondrous regrowth of his spine failed for some reason...

Shaking himself Logan stood hesitantly, took his cane and went to the bathroom to start his day.

One of the things he enjoyed the most was this, to be able to go through his morning routine like a normal person. He still used the shower stool, he knew that he wasn't strong enough yet to stand there for fifteen minutes, and he really didn't want Bling to find him sprawled in the tile floor, naked, wet and with a cracked skull.

But he drew the line at sitting down to use the toilet. He knew he was being stubborn and a little irrational, that he still didn't have the strength and fine motor control to do a proper job, but having to pee sitting down was one of the things that he had hated the most, he hated the lack of control, the lack of feeling, how a simple thing had turned into a complex, humiliating ritual.

The first thing he had done after wobbling his way around the apartment had been to go to the bathroom when he felt the almost forgotten pressure in his lower abdomen. He was ecstatic, almost dizzy with joy, and had ended up making a mess of the pristine bathroom. Bling had rushed to his aid as he heard Logan fall, and had almost bitten his head off for being careless. It would have had more effect if he had not laughed the entire time. The shame had been enough to make Logan pace himself, at least in the bathroom. But he had pushed himself until he finally was able to pee like a man.

It was childish, yes. But he enjoyed his victory all the same.

Once finished he walked slowly to the kitchen and started the first coffee pot of the day. Now that he could walk again he had started to do every thing he had been denied in the last months, from the necessary to the foolish. One of the things he had missed was to do his own legwork for Eyes Only. He was thankful to Max for all her help, of course, and he intended to keep her as his main operative for as long as she wanted to, but he missed doing things on his own, meeting contacts, gathering intel and even the occasional break in. He had a few leads that he wanted to check himself.

He moved to his office, relishing the fact that he would now seat again at the chair that was usually used by Max or Bling. Booting up his system he started checking emails, answering some, marking others for further research and deleting the rest. One caught his eye.

He'd spent the last three months trying to get some information on a new gang, a group that was bringing sophisticated, expensive weapons and designer drugs from Europe. He would've thought that there would be a small market for such things in Seattle, but the larger gangs and both the Russian mob and The Triads were avid customers. The guns they put to use to consolidate and expand their territories, and the drugs were funneled to other cities. He had managed to locate the shipping company used and Max had infiltrated it and gathered the evidence needed to put a stop to them, but a few weeks later the drugs were back in Seattle, and he'd had no luck in tracking the supplier again. But now he had.

One of his contacts in Portland had told him about a new turf war involving several gangs using high-powered automatic weapons, and the pictures that he'd been able to take before being killed proved to him that he had not stopped them, only forced them to relocate.

Logan burned with anger and shame. He had failed.

He had become complacent, and had assumed that the local Police would put a stop to the nameless group responsible, and one of his informants had paid with his life for his hubris. What made it worse, though, was that the man wasn't just an informant, he also had been a friend.

Logan vowed to himself to finish the job this time, and to do it right. Contacting another source in Portland he prepared himself a set of travel documents under one of his false identities and went to his bedroom to retrieve his travel kit.

Eyes Only was going to Portland.

3


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**Chapter Two**

"And where do you think you're going, missy?"

Max stopped and turned back to look at Normal. It was 7.50 at night, she had just returned from an urgent delivery and just wanted to go home and take a long, hot bath. She was cold, wet and very pissed. Her day had been a long string of fuck ups, from the moment she was pushed into a mud pool by a patrol car on her way to work to her last delivery. She had not received a single tip all day, had been insulted, yelled at and one particularly nasty Sector Cop had had her standing under the pouring rain for almost an hour with the excuse of checking her ID. She was ready to kill someone by now.

"Look Normal, unlike you I actually have a life, so I'm going home, if that's OK with you." she bit out.

Normal knew her well enough to recognize the tone and the face, but business was business.

"Be that as it may, and assuming that getting drunk and throwing up in an alley can be considered having a life, this still is a place of business, and there's an urgent delivery waiting here. And since the rest of the reprobates has left you'll have to take it." Normal raised a hand to stop her "It's just a drop, you can bring the signature tomorrow, and since it's after hours it pays triple. Besides, it's in Sector Nine, on your way home."

Normal threw the small package to her, and Max snatched it and as she drew her arm back to return it she saw the address. It was a package for Logan. She looked up at Normal and saw him smirking knowingly. She _would_ take it, or he would never give her another package for that sector, taking away her excuse to visit Logan for lunch. Not that she couldn't make it work, Sketchy and Cindy always traded with her when they got one, but she didn't need to give more cause for trouble to her anal retentive prick of a boss. Cursing loudly she spun on her heels and stomped out into the rain.

'_He better have something to eat and plenty hot water..._'

***************************************

Max had considered stopping by her place to pick up her baby before going to Logan, after all she knew he wouldn't mind if his package arrived a little late, but the idea of changing into her leather pants when still cold and wet would be uncomfortable to say the least, so she pedaled as hard as she could toward Foggle towers.

As she crossed the darkened alleys of the city she let her mind wander to him. She was still shocked by his little surprise. She would never admit it, of course, but when she sensed him towering over her she'd been more affected than she had let on. More than she was comfortable with, more than she cared to consider. Her heart had quickened, her breathing had hitched, she had felt a...something in her stomach. After much pondering the only word she could put to it was fluttering.

She cursed Kendra and Original Cindy for all the crap they had told her, all their _advice_. She didn't believe in those things, didn't make any sense. But when his legs had failed, her arms had grabbed him without thought, supporting his weight effortlessly. She had felt every muscle in his well-toned chest tense at the contact, and as she helped him back on his chair their eyes had met. She had been drawn into those eyes, drawn to him. Neither had broken that connection during the short exchange that followed, his piercing green eyes wouldn't let her; she had noticed him staring at her with that intensity a couple of times before. She had always ignored it, because it was too intense, too demanding. It reminded her of the first time they had met, and the next night at Crash, and then again when he had tricked her in front of the mirror. Sometimes when she was up on her high place she would allow herself to remember that night. Much to her dismay she had realized then that if he had played her a little longer, she would've probably kissed him. Hell, she would've jumped his bones.

Logan had been a playa then, and she was pretty sure he would've fucked her before playing his hand. In his place, she would have done so.

But her real problem was that his accident and his life in the chair had done nothing to his sex appeal. If anything, this new, kinder, broody Logan was even more attractive to her. He was still hot, he was smart, witty, and almost as good as her at wielding sarcastic retorts. He was the first man she had ever met that could keep up with her, so to speak. He was certainly the first to out-stubborn her. And he never got all pissy if she got the upper hand, be it at chess, in an argument or just joking around. He took her blunt, direct manner at face value, and understood her in ways she never thought possible. Fuck, he was perfect for her.

And that scared the shit out of her.

She had contemplated a time or ten to take their partnership into a more intimate level. The man was hot, funny, could cook, and kissed like a god. Thinking about their kiss outside his cabin made her flush. Logan had made her head spin with just a kiss, who knew what he could do to her given the chance? The problem was that she was scared of all the things Logan made her feel. She also knew he had lots of issues with his disability, that it was a big part of what held him back: he liked her, that much she was sure of, but he never did or said anything that could be taken as interest in her. Oh, there were plenty of moments when she saw the longing and desire in his eyes, like the time she had taken a header off the roof of the hotel to save his ass, and ended up straddling him on a bed. She could still remember the feel of his hard, lean body under hers. But most of the time he held back, and she was grateful for that. She wasn't ready for something that intense, someone that meant that much to her. But now...

Now he was mobile again.

If he had reverted to his old self she could've dealt with it, she had felt lust for that man, but she had not _liked_ him. That man was an arrogant asshole, and she had dealt with those before. The man she had come to know afterward, her friend, the man she trusted with her life, the man she allowed to see her at her worst, that was someone else. And the man slouching carelessly on his chair, smiling wickedly at her three night before was still the same. Only more...

That was the problem, she didn't know what to expect from this Logan. She knew he was still her friend and confidant, only now there was more there, the covert looks of desire he threw at her were out in the open. Max didn't know how to react to that. One part of her felt leery of him, feared to let him in. He was a dangerous man, after all. But the rest wanted to try. Wanted someone to care for her, protect her, take care of her.

_That_ was what really scared her.

Max had never needed anyone's help, or rather, had never allowed anyone to see her needing help. But she had let Logan in, had let him see her weak and in pain, had let him comfort her, rescue her: she trusted Logan, and while Max knew she could live her life without him or the dozens of little things he did for her, she had to admit she didn't really want to. She might not depend on Logan, but she counted on him to be there for her, and didn't want to lose that.

She was afraid that giving in to her desire, to his desire, would fuck up everything. She'd seen it happen to her friends, especially when it involved people working together. It had happened at Jam Pony last year, a couple of riders had started dating, moved in together, reasoning they had know each other for years and were good friends. It had lasted exactly two months.

The resulting chaos, while extremely amusing to Original Cindy, had made working at Jam Pony, lazing about in their usual hang-outs and even spending time at Crash a never ending fight that had forced most of the messengers to take sides. It had taken Normal another month before he snapped and fired them both. Even after almost a year there were still riders that didn't speak to each other.

In her case, if things went wrong would mean going back to stealing for her meds, back to eating whatever crap she could get, back to seeing Sketchy make a fool of himself as the highpoint of her night. And never seeing Logan again.

On the other hand...it could mean that her visits to Logan would be even better. She would stay with him instead of driving back to the roach-infested cesspit she called home. She loved Kendra, but given the choice she would take a night in Logan's large bed over her own any time.

Max frowned at that thought. She needed to get her act together before she got to Logan's...

Max realized she was standing in front of his building.

Huffing angrily, she picked up her bike and entered the building, barely acknowledging the pleasantries of the guard at the desk. She stabbed angrily at the elevator button, urging it to come. But when the doors closed behind her Max found herself wishing the light marking the floors would move slower. She was about to see Logan, and the thought both elated and made her anxious. As the elevator pinged announcing she was out of time, Max schooled her features and moved to the door. She only needed to give him the damn package, sent him to cook dinner while she showered and changed and after eating she decided to bail and go pick up her baby.

She wasn't ready to deal with Logan tonight.

3


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**Chapter Three**

Max stood in front of the penthouse door a few minutes more, trying to make up her mind.

The water dripping from her clothes onto the polished floor reminded her that she _did _need a shower and warm clothes, at least. Still, Max wasn't ready to face Logan just yet. She'd gone over the events of the last time they'd seen each other, the dinner, the ride on her baby, and more importantly, the conversation. She tried to put it off her mind, but she couldn't.

Every time she tried to settle down for a nap, every moment alone with her thoughts, she would be drawn back to him. To his eyes, to his voice, to his words...to the feel of his body while they rode, how good, how right it seemed to have her arms around him. It scared her. It also made her head spin with longing.

Fuck.

How on earth was she supposed to just sit there and eat with him? She was standing on the hallway, cold and wet and her heart was already hammering in her chest. She feared that she might not make it through dinner without making a fool of herself.

'_And that would be bad how?_'

Max growled angrily, ignoring the mocking voice in her head. The fact that she'd been asking herself the same question for the last three days – hell, the last six months – only made her angrier.

Muttering curses she picked the lock and entered. Leaving her bike leaning on the wall by the hallway, she slammed the door shut and stomped toward his office.

"Logan! You better have dinner ready!"

************************

Logan had spent most of the day setting up his trip, calling contacts, gathering equipment. He had decided that he would stay in Portland until he brought his enemy down. He'd done things the usual way, and it had cost good men their lives; he was not going to make the same mistake twice. This time, he would do anything he had to.

The only thing he needed now were his travel documents, and he intended to leave as soon as the package arrived. That brought up the first non mission-related thought of the day.

He'd taken to use Jam Pony to move most of his legal and quasi-legal packages. He knew some of the riders there, knew how good they were, and tried to have his parcels assigned to Max, Original Cindy or Herbal. So far, he hadn't had any trouble with this arrangement. Not that he'd let Max know, of course.

When he heard the door slam shut and the angry, squelching steps Logan couldn't keep a smile from his lips. He had hoped Max would come by, as he didn't know how long he would be in Portland, and he wanted to make this night memorable.

He had to face the facts, that he might not make it back. He had considered that possibility, and taken the necessary steps to insure that Eyes Only would survive his death. His apartment was owned through a series of untraceable overseas holdings, as were most of his liquid assets. When he'd first started Eyes Only Logan had discreetly erased most of his traces; he was still known, as a journalist he couldn't just vanish, but he had altered all available information. He had hacked city, college and FBI records, altered his dental records and fingerprints to that of a dead man. If he was ever found or killed his body would not be identified. He had even had minor cosmetic surgery done to his face to alter the specific points in his bone structure that were used in facial recognition software. At least, the software used by the Sector Police...he had no doubt that if he was ever captured by a federal agency or, god forbid, Manticore, all bets were off. But it was as safe as he could make it.

Part of the preparations for this trip was to update his will. He had most of his investments cashed in and the money deposited into a series of bank accounts in Europe and Japan. About half of that he had left to Sebastian, Bling and Matt Sung, along with discs holding all the data on the Informant Network. The rest though...

He had left a little under half his remaining fortune, including the penthouse, to Max.

Logan, more than most, knew that money wasn't the answer to everything. But Max had suffered so much, had wanted for so much for most of her short life that he wanted to do whatever he could for her, and for her family. He had promised to find them, after all. And he had failed miserably at that. The least he could do was to provide her with the means to continue the search herself.

Taking a deep breath, Logan prepared himself to enjoy what could be his last night with Max. The fact that he tackled what should be a relaxed evening as another Eyes Only mission was completely lost on him.

************************

Max stood on the doorway to Logan's office, glowering at him. The fact that he was smiling up at her, clearly pleased to see her only made her angrier. She wanted to be angry at him. If she let go of her bad mood she would probably end up doing something stupid. As it was, even pissed she couldn't help to notice how good he looked, dressed in a light blue sweater that did nothing to hide his well toned body. He also had stopped wearing loose cargo pants, favoring blue or black jeans that did wonders for his ass. Gazing down at his feet she noticed that he still went barefoot while indoors.

Looking back up to his face -taking her time, of course- she saw his smile had turned to a knowing smirk.

'_Busted!_'

Max narrowed her eyes, refusing to relax. Logan wasn't going to make it easy for her though; he stretched his arms over his head lazily, like a cat, curling his toes on the smooth hardwood floor. His eyes, though, never left her face.

Max felt a wave of warmth spreading over her face, and from her stomach down toward...well, _down_. Desperate to keep him from noticing her reaction she threw she soggy package at Logan, hitting him none-too-gently in the stomach. In his firm, chiseled stomach. She had wondered why people called it a 'six pack', until she'd surprised Logan coming out of the shower one day. So _that_ was why...

As she tried to get her mind back on track Max realized that her hands, bereft now of anything to hold on to and left to their own device had settled on her stomach and were moving on slow, lazy circles, mimicking her thoughts about what a girl could do if she got her hands on a body like Logan's...

_Fuck._

What the hell was her problem? Was she in heat? It couldn't be, it was too soon, she had another five weeks, a month at least. That left only one option, as much as she hated to admit it: the damned man just made her horny.

************************

Logan allowed himself a smirk. He had caught Max looking at him appraisingly before. On an intellectual level he knew that Max wasn't shallow, that she appreciated him for what he was, but for him the loss of his legs meant a lot more than reduced mobility. He was diminished by it. People saw him with pity or disgust, if they saw him at all. He was used to women looking up to him, admiring him and trying to catch his eye. Now they just avoided him. Not Max, though. She always looked him straight in the eye, challenged him, spoke her mind and never let his injury get in the way when she thought he was making or saying something stupid. Which was quite often.

From the first time they had met she'd been attracted to him; he had seen that look enough times to recognize it for what it was. After the shooting it had stopped, and that had played a large part in his despondence and depression. He was less than a man, he knew it, and every woman he met knew it.

Except for Max.

After she dropped back into his life they'd settled into a comfortable routine, one that gave Logan the human contact he craved. And he started noticing the looks Max gave him when she would drop by in the middle of the day, interrupting his therapy sessions with Bling, or the couple of times she had walked in just after he'd shower. It was the same look she'd given him the first night, and the next one at Crash.. Her eyes conveyed interest, attraction. She still found him attractive. The problem was he didn't _feel_ attractive. He _was_ less of a man that he used to be.

He was not worthy of a normal woman, much less the dark, beautiful creature standing in front of him. That's what had led him to keep his feelings and desires bottled, to try and keep their relationship as friends. Because that was the other part of his problem, the real source of his misery: He couldn't inflict a broken old man on Max, but neither could he stand the idea of his life without her.

But now...now things were different.

Logan stood, walking slowly toward Max. He smiled again as he took in her slightly flushed face. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to see exactly how long she could hold her breath. But he couldn't. Not yet, anyway. He was about to leave Seattle, and didn't know when or if he would return. And he also knew he couldn't let Max know. She would insist on going with him, if he was lucky. In the mood she was tonight, it was far more likely she would tear him a new one for being stupid and careless. And he could afford neither.

The feel of the wet cardboard box in his hands brought his mind back to task. He had his travel papers, he was good to go. All that was left was having dinner and a game with Max.

"So, I gather you're none too pleased about the weather?"

"What you should _gather_ is that I'm wet, hungry and pissed, and do something about it!"

"Of course. I managed to get a chicken, and thought maybe you'd like to enjoy one of my personal recipes? Roasted chicken stuffed with mushrooms, nuts and raisins, with mashed potatoes, butter and rosemary sounds OK?"

Max tried to hold on to her scowl, she really did.

Then her stomach betrayed her, loudly. Max couldn't stop herself, and laughed.

"OK, Logan. I'll eat your damned chicken if it means so much to you. But it better have garlic!"

"Oh, don't worry, it has garlic. I've come to know what you want. Anticipating you has became a survival skill for me."

Max blinked, nonplussed. She wasn't used to this Logan. She was accustomed to the soft-spoken, gentle guy who cooked and talked and played chess with her. A guy who laughed at her jokes, shared his home and his life with her. She was used to her friend. This guy? Max was also used to men jeering at her on the streets, to crude jokes, rude comments and overtly sexual innuendo. While the topic and tone of this conversation was just like another hundred like it, his tone, his body language and, above all, the look of naked desire in his eyes made things clear: he was _flirting_ with her, and there was nothing friendly or innocent about it. This Logan was an unknown quantity. This Logan was demanding, relentless. This Logan scared her.

Max liked this Logan. A _lot_.

She let her gaze roam playfully over his lips, his scruffy beard, and back to his eyes. Biting her lower lip – she _had_ noticed how his heart rate went up every time he saw her do that - Max looked again into Logan's eyes, defiant.

"Is that right? Tell me then, what an I thinking about?"

Logan leaned forward to whisper into her ear, letting his three-day beard scratch her silky skin along the jaw line. He smiled as she stiffened and took a deep breath at the touch.

"You're thinking of taking a long, hot bath. And you're pissed because you'll have to settle for a shower."

Max was, again, surprised. Damn, the man was good. It wasn't a big secret, of course, but Logan had read her mood just right. He was _too_ good.

"Yeah, well...You start with the cooking, I'll go take my less-than-satisfactory shower." Max turned and was about to head to the guest bathroom when Logan caught her wrist. She looked back at him, lifting a delicate eyebrow in question. Logan just smiled and pulled gently, leading her into his own bedroom.

"I have something else in mind to get you warmed up. Something better than a shower."

Max was a little nervous now. What did he have in mind? Was she ready for what she thought he was suggesting? Was he ready for that? Truth was, she'd had a few dreams about this in the last six months. And in the nights when she climbed the Needle sometimes she indulged a fantasy or two. There was one that started pretty much like this...

She snapped back to reality as she felt Logan release her hand, leaving her standing in the middle of his bedroom as he went to his closet. Logan retrieved a large towel, an old pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that she favored whenever she slept over. Going back to her he took her hand again and led her to another door. Max seldom entered his bedroom, and had never seen the adjoining bathroom before, but she knew that's where he was leading her. Logan opened the door for her, motioning for her to go first, and turned on the lights. It was everything she had come to expect from Logan: expensive yet tasteful, elegant and functional...

And set against the far wall, she saw a huge whirlpool tub, large enough for three.

"Logan, you've been holding up on me! You've had this all along and never said anything? I'm gonna have to make you pay."

"I was saving this for a special occasion. This, too." Logan took a deep red, small cloth bag from the cabinet under the sink, handing it to Max. He barely stopped himself from laughing out loud as Max snatched the bag from his hand and started rummaging inside. He could swear he could see her ears perking up with excitement. Sometimes he had no trouble at all seeing the cat in Max. He almost expected to see Max flicking her tail in excitement. She certainly growled and spitted when she was pissed.

What he never expected was the low, throaty sound coming from her mouth. It sounded suspiciously like purring.

By now Max was busy filling the tub and sorting through her bag of goodies, opening and sniffing the bottles of body lotion, shampoo and bath salts and oils until settling for a lavender scented one. His smile fell a little as Max started to peel her wet clothes out, willing the tub to fill up faster with a determined stare. Logan knew it wasn't an attempt at seducing him, nor was it an invitation; she just forgot about him. Shaking his head ruefully he made his way to the kitchen.

Only Max...

************************

Max was in heaven.

The temperature was just right, the strong water jets caressed her body, and the oils...she didn't know what they were supposed to do, but the smell was heavenly and that was enough for her. Picking up her brand new loofah – he gave her a frikkin' _loofah!_ - Max scrubbed her sensitized skin gently.

At first she'd been pissed with Logan for keeping the tub for herself, but five minutes into her bath she no longer cared, especially considering the amount of time and money she knew he'd had to spent tracking down the contents of the bag. She decided that dropping in whenever she wanted to use the tub would be punishment enough. Too bad her girls couldn't share her wealth...she gave out an evil chuckle, already planning her girl's night out: Crash, dancing, hot tub and a movie. Hell, if she played her cards right she might even get Logan to do the catering...

She was interrupted by Logan knocking on the door, letting her know dinner was ready.

Max dried herself slowly, relishing the silky-smooth feel of her skin. '_So that's what the oil was for..._' She dressed in his clothes, like she had many times before, and went to the dinning room. She was greeted by the soft, reddish glow of several candles and the mouth-watering smell of the roasted chicken. They ate in comfortable silence, sharing dazzling smiles and covert looks. Max glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. She still had one hour before curfew, it was the time she usually made her excuses to leave, or she stayed the night talking and playing chess. She smiled to herself. This time the question was a little different: she had already decided she'd spend the night, she just had to decide where in the apartment she would sleep...or not, as the case may be. She was about to pick up the flirting were they'd left when Logan spoke first.

"I've laid out a change of clothes for you in the guest bedroom, so you can leave after dessert and beat the curfew."

'_Wait, what????_'

"I'm sorry you can't stay, but I have early meetings with several informants..."

"That's OK, Logan. I have to leave early for work, too. You'll just have to get up _really_ early to make me breakfast."

Logan coughed, choking on his wine. He met her flinty stare then, and saw the anger roiling behind her seemingly-soft brown eyes. He was in trouble.

Max saw the flicker of awareness on his face, there and gone in an instant. She would've missed it if she hadn't been watching for it. He was doing it again! He was pushing her away for some unknown, fucked up reason. She knew he found her attractive, knew he had feelings for her, but in a blink Logan was gone and Eyes Only was back. And Eyes Only wanted her out of the apartment _now_. She stood up stiffly and stormed out to get dressed.

'_Fine! If he wants to act like and asshole he can do it on his own!_'

She dressed in her dry clothes as fast as she could and made her way to the door without looking at Logan, who was still sitting at the table looking almost sorry.

Almost.

Sensing his presence, hearing his breathing, smelling him – god, his smell... - she turned and went back to the table.

"Tell me one thing, Logan. What was this all about? Why did you give me those things? Why did you make me dinner? Why THE FUCK were you flirting with me???" She was standing over him, her body quivering with barely restrained anger. She wanted to beat the shit out of him. She wanted to...

There were too many things she wanted, and while she entertained -briefly- the idea of jumping his fool bones and beating him up - not necessarily in that order - she knew the only thing to do was leave. Logan refused to meet her gaze, he just sat with his hands folded in front of him...in a posture eerily reminiscing of his brooding while on the chair...it couldn't be...

Max knelt by his side, making eye contact with him, and placed her hand gently on his. She felt Logan stiffen at the touch at first, before relaxing. Still, he didn't react to her: he just sat there.

"Logan, talk to me! What's wrong? Did...did I do something wrong?" Max might not be an expert on human relationships, but she'd spent enough hours talking about men with Kendra and, surprisingly, Original Cindy. She was fairly certain that she'd done nothing wrong, but Cindy was right: you never knew with men and their fragile egos. Besides, she wasn't above a little emotional manipulation. She was contemplating adding a few tears to her quivering lower lip for effect when Logan finally reacted.

"Max, it's just...I...I'm just tired, and I have a long day ahead of me. Besides, the first meetings will be with some new people, and I need to prepare. I probably won't get any sleep tonight..."

Max was still new at deep emotional interaction, but she knew Logan well enough to know two things; he'd been about to tell her the real reason, and then he'd lied to her without a blink. He was good. He was very good. But he couldn't lie to her, not anymore. That he would try to do so left her feeling sad and empty.

"OK, Logan. Have it your way."

Max stood and schooled her face into a blank, expressionless mask. She walked away and stood on the hallway, placing a trembling hand on the jamb. She turned back to take a long, hard look at him before leaving.

"Good bye, Logan..."

Max left and ran down the stairs almost at a blur. She was sick and tired of Logan Cale and his bullshit.

7


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**Chapter Four**

Max didn't sleep that night. Or the next four.

She had gone home, traded her work bike for her baby and blazed through the city all night. She then spent the next days cursing Logan. Original Cindy had kept quiet at first, but after three days of everyone in Jam Pony walking on eggshells, afraid of breathing wrong and becoming the focus of Max's anger she took her friend by the arm and dragged her to the lockers, sat her on the bench and demanded an explanation.

"OK Boo. Original Cindy's gonna be straight with you. Whatever it is that's gotten you in this mood, and by whatever I mean your boy, it has to stop now. You have everyone scared shitless, and while a sister can appreciate the calm and quiet this has gone too far. Hell, even Normal is afraid, and he's usually too stupid to know when to keep his damn fool mouth close. So spill."

"There's nothing to say, Cindy. Now, if you don't mind, there's a package with my name on it."

Original Cindy grabbed her arm as she tried to stand and dragged her back down.

"Original Cindy says bullshit. What's he done now? Did he cheat on you?"

"As if! He would never cheat on me..."

Too late, Max saw the satisfied smirk on her friend's face, and realized what she'd admitted. _Shit_.

"Ha! So you two finally decided to stop lying to yourselves! What happened, he not good as you thought? Always said you played for the wrong team, girl."

Max shook her arm from her friend's grip and stood, moving a few steps away, leaning on the lockers.

"Nothing happened, OK. He just...he was just a prick, that's all."

"OK, Boo, whatever you say. But Original Cindy thinks there's more to the story than that. You say nothing happened. You didn't give her the 'we're not like that' crap. So she thinks that something did happen, and that you wanted something to happen."

Max gave her friend an angry scowl, but Cindy just held her eyes. Max rolled her eyes and huffed, annoyed.

"Well...you know what? Fuck it. Yeah, I wanted something to happen. I was ready for something to happen. And I thought Logan was, too. Ever since he got his legs back he's been...I don't know, it's like he suddenly sees me. And the other night he was flirtin' with me. Flirtin', Cindy! And the bastard's pretty good at it, too. But then, he kicks me out, gives me all this bullshit excuses that he's tired, that he has to work early...He's sat with me talking all night before, has pulled many all-nighters for a story. That man sleeps almost as little as I do. So I know all he wanted was to get me out of there. And I can't figure out why..."

"You like him, Boo. That's why. He got under yo' skin, and you can't stop thinkin' 'bout him. That's normal, in a disgusting hetero way. Nuttin' wrong 'bout worrying fo' yo' shorty."

"He's not my...whatever. Look, he hasn't called, and I'm worried aiight?"

"An' you don' want to go there unless he calls you first, right? Original Cindy never thought she'd seen this day, but you are whipped, girl. It's sad, really."

"HEY! I'M NOT..." Max took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "I'm not whipped. I'm pissed, and worried, but if you keep with that the only thing whipped here is gonna be your ass. So chill, OK?"

"No need to get nasty Max, Original Cindy's just worried about you. What you need to do is go to yo' boy's crib an' have it out with HIM, 'stead of us. We ain't the ones screwin' up with yo' pretty little head. So here's what yo'll do; march that cute little ass over there an' have a long talk with him. An' don't even think of coming back 'till you have all yo' shit sorted out. Sketchy's gonna wet hisself if you give him another look like this mornin'. So git."

Max stared in surprise at her friend. While Original Cindy had never been shy about speaking her mind, she usually was not as...angry as she was now. And of course, she was right. She needed to sort her relationship with Logan before her head exploded...or she killed someone, whichever came first. Finally, she smiled at her friend.

"You know Boo, I don't know what I would do without you."

Cindy smiled warmly as she gave Max a quick hug.

"Damn right you don't."

Max smiled again and took off without noticing every messenger running to get out of her way, some flattening themselves against the walls as she passed on her way out. Cindy chuckled at that. Despite what she'd said, there was nothing wrong with putting the fear of god on the fools working there. Fear of goddess, she amended to herself with an evil smile.

Her boo would be aiight. Logan, now...well, _that_ fool deserved everything coming his way.

************************

Max stood again in front of Logan's building. She spent a few minutes there gathering her thoughts.

She had been full of anger and purpose as she left Jam Pony, but the ride over to Logan's had given her enough time to through things again, and then the doubts came back. Was she fooling herself? Had Logan really been flirting with her? Had she really seen desire in his eyes? Or was it just her own wishes and desires, projected on her best friend?

Max shook herself off that mood. It didn't really matter now if Logan felt that way about her, because _she_ did.

And she was going to confront him about his shitty behavior, no matter what. He was tired of their old game. One way or the other, things would change today.

She made her way up to his apartment, picked the lock and entered. Max took a moment to look around from the entrance to the living room. This place held many memories for her, memories of Logan, of their many meals, chess matches and late night talks. Max felt a stirring of fear in her stomach. The question wasn't if Logan felt the same; it was whether she was ready to lose her best friend and confidant if she was wrong. Max moved slowly toward his office, knowing that was the most likely place to find him. As she approached the door she waited to hear him tapping away, as usual.

This time, she didn't.

Puzzled, Max walked past the empty office, toward the master bedroom. It was empty as well. A quick check of the closets revealed a few clothes missing, with Logan's travel bag and his emergency kit. The initial dread was quickly replaced with anger as Max returned to his office...

Yep, his computers and broadcasting equipment were gone, and she could only smell Logan and Bling's scent in the room, both in the last few days. The truth was there to be seen, clear as day.

That stupid, stubborn man had skipped town on her.

Well, not because of her, but it certainly explained the warm, flirty Logan turning into Eyes Only and bustling her out of the place. He was doing something dangerous or stupid, probably both knowing Logan. And he didn't want her involved because...well, she would have to find him and ask. She had many questions for the man, a couple more wouldn't do much difference.

First, though, she had to find the bastard, not an easy task.

Suddenly, Max smiled. Logan was good, very good, and had a wide network of contacts, and access to resources beyond her own. But she had two things going for her: first, she knew him, knew how he thought, how he planned, and knew enough about the people and the inner workings of the Informant Network to use it against Logan. More important though, she was made for this, she was _born_ to hunt. What's more, she wasn't the one being hunted this time: in this particular game of cat and mouse, she'd be the one doing the stalking. And the stakes, while being very important for her on a personal level, weren't _deadly_. She could afford to enjoy the chase.

And she intended to enjoy herself fully with this particular mouse.

************************

First she had to figure out where Logan had moved his equipment. The obvious choices were Sebastian or Bling. In the later's case, she knew he would never host it at his apartment, so that meant he would use one of Eyes Only's safe houses. She knew most of those, so she checked those first.

It took her most of the day, but she hit pay dirt on the safe house they'd used to hold Alina Herrero. She had little trouble bypassing Bling's defenses, and since Logan had given her all his passwords in case she ever needed them, in short order she was going through his current files. There were a few possibilities, so now Max needed to narrow them down.

That took her a lot longer.

There was a lead in Canada, one in Olympia, two in California, including a possible sighting of one of her sisters in LA...she thought about that for a moment: could Logan had left in order to bring her sister to Seattle as a surprise? It didn't really make sense, but Logan was prone to make weird intuitive leaps in his research, so it was a possibility. Then there was a lead from Portland. And that was just assuming he had left the city in order to take his investigation to the source instead of just leaving in order to research a case in Seattle itself from a safe distance...

Then, Max remembered she still had another lead to chase. Logan had, after all, used her to deliver that package, and the timing was too close to be a coincidence. From there it was a simple matter for her to track down the package to the sender, another contact she knew well: it was the man how forged most of Logan's Id's, and very good at his job. It was dawn before Max had managed to hack into his computer, but she finally had her answer. Logan, or rather Robert Eastman, was returning to Portland after a long visit with relatives in Seattle.

'So that's it, then. I guess I'm going to visit Oregon.'

At first Max had intended to just blaze her way through the checkpoints, then she considered the possibility of swiping a VIP pass from the Sector Police, but after a series of crack downs earlier that month it would take time. Asking Matt Sung's help was also out of the question. After a few moments deep in thought, Max smiled. It was almost too easy for her to fake a request from Logan for additional papers for her. Her smile turned wicked as she arranged for the package to be carried to Portland, and requested Normal to assign her the delivery. If she had to go traipsing around the fucking country after Logan Cale, she might as well get paid for it. That it took care of Normal at the same time was just a bonus.

Max also decided that, since she was going to all this trouble, she might as well get her money's worth – his, actually – out of the deal. She arranged for a few hard-to-get parts and fuel for her Ninja, and had the grossly overcharged items billed to Logan.

If he wanted to act like a bitch it was only fair to show him how seriously he had underestimated her own skills in that area.

After she put the finishing touches of her plan in motion, Max went to work, actually arriving early, and waited for her package to arrive.

She had to wait almost until closing, but the expression on Normal's face when he saw the request – and the money offered for her services – was well worth it.

4


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**Chapter Five**

Logan had arrived safely, and moved to his safe house in Portland.

While Seattle was his main playground, and had places set up all over the city, he liked to have at least a safe place to retreat in any place he visited, especially if he had contacts in the area that might need them.

Not that it had made any difference for his local contact...

Once again Logan cursed his stupidity and hubris, and vowed to make his quarry pay.

He'd spent the first day setting up his equipment, checking leads and setting up his lines of communication with Bling and Sebastian. Once that was ready he made several calls, sent messages and set up a couple of meets with his remaining informants in the city. None of them where as good or as well connected as Marc.

Logan had met him five years before, during an interview in Seattle. He'd just started Eyes Only, and the younger man worked as security consultant for a State Senator from Portland. Marc was extremely good at his job in electronic surveillance and countermeasures, both on others on behalf of his boss and to protect him from intrusion. He and Logan had waged a silent but very intense war for weeks, both on line and with listening devices. In the end Logan only managed to penetrate Marc's defenses because he had access to more resources: he knew that if the battle had taken place on Marc's own turf he would've lost.

After exposing the senator and his ties to a child prostitution ring Marc had found himself without a job, and without a way to get the necessary Id to return to Portland. Logan had contacted him on behalf of Eyes Only, and the two men had taken a liking to each other instantly. Between drinks and casual meals through the following week Eyes Only had secured his services as main contact in Portland. More than an asset though, Marc had been a friend.

A good friend who had trusted him, and had paid the price for Logan's failure.

As far as he was concerned, he was as responsible as those who pulled the trigger.

After he was finished with what Max would've called his pity fest, Logan visited the location Marc had designated as blind drop offs for his information, and collected whatever he could find. Then he went to his secondary back up site, and retrieved those, too. It contained a trove of information, from the vitally important to the trivial, and sifting through everything would likely take Logan at least a week. Pouring himself his first cup of coffee, he started to work.

It was as long and grueling a task as he had suspected: Marc still worked electronic security for a number of corporate clients, and the amount of dirty secrets he had unveiled was staggering. Mostly small stuff, but still useful in the long run.

In his fifth day in Portland Logan finally found what he was looking for. Using the last report he'd received he had limited his search to certain areas of the city, and he'd found a few pictures and video footage that showed drug and gun sales, mostly in well-to-do neighborhoods and clubs. That at least gave him a time frame and a pattern to work with. Still, he was no closer to find the head of the beast, or the place where the drugs and guns were stored, although he noticed that the two products were moved by two separate groups. He was reasonably certain that the men in each group never crossed the other's path. Probably they never knew each other.

It was a very efficient way of working, as proved by his troubles finding the leaders.

Logan cursed, annoyed. He wished he could've asked Max to come with him, she was perfect for this kind of op...

And then he remembered why she was back in Seattle, probably drinking beer and dancing at Crash.

The last thing Logan wanted was for Max to get herself involved in this sordid affair, it was much too dangerous, both for her personal safety and for the risk of exposure. This group was good at their job, too good, and he wasn't going to risk anymore lives if he could avoid it.

Especially Max's.

After another half hour of sorting through pictures left his eyes red from the effort and his back aching, he decided to call it a night. After all, he wasn't doing much progress, every five minutes his vision would blur and he would see a pair of brown eyes staring back at him from every picture...

'_Damn, I'm in trouble..._'

Logan couldn't concentrate for more than an hour before his treacherous thoughts drifted back to a certain dark-haired beauty, to her luminous brown eyes, to those pouty lips that begged to be kissed...

Groaning in frustration Logan stood up, stretching his sore back and turned toward the window, as he decided to go for a walk.

The moment he decided that, he was greeted by thunder, and the window rattled from the aftershock and wind.

Logan groaned again. He loved to walk, had made a point of travel on foot whenever possible before the accident, and wanted to get back to that custom as soon as he was able to walk for more than five minutes without falling on his ass. He had planned to visit a few places he'd seen before in the city, particularly the Rose Garden; he had many fond memories of that place, and once more wished Max was there with him, so he could take her there. But of course, things couldn't be easy...a massive thunderstorm was brewing when he arrived, and had been going on for the last three days. And the resulting black outs didn't help his investigation, either.

As soon as that thought went through his mind, the lights flickered and died. Cursing, Logan groped his way to the small kitchen and started lighting candles. Soon the apartment was bathed in soft light, which did nothing for his state of mind; he was alone, had almost no battery left on his laptop, and he couldn't stop thinking on the many late night dinners and conversations with Max. Sighing, Logan made his way to the bathroom. He might as well call it a night and get an early start the next day.

Sleep, when it finally came, was plagued with visions of dark, laughing eyes, forever moving just beyond his grasp.

************************

The next morning arrived too soon for his liking.

He had slept little and rested even less. The power was still out, the storm continued to rage unabated and to top it off, he was out of hair gel. His hair, usually stiled in seemingly haphazard spikes now flopped every way, mostly on his eyes.

It took Logan a while to accept the futility of his attempts, and another to realize he had spent almost two hours fussing over his damned hair.

For the first time in almost a week, he was glad Max wasn't around: she would've never let him live it down.

By mid morning the power was back, and he was working again. A couple of hours later he had picked his first target: a small but very trendy club, popular with the young, rich and beautiful of Portland. He might not be as young as the usual patrons, but he was rich and handsome enough to pull it off.

He decided to make an appearance that same night, so he called a cab and went shopping.

A couple of hours later he was going through some more files and videos, making time before leaving for the club.

By now Logan saw it as just being through, he had what he needed at the moment, but he was determined to cover all possible angles. He was about to shut his computer down and call a cab when a video caught his attention.

The quality was bad, the image blurry and grainy, and shot from a distance. It was taken from one of dozens of hidden cameras Marc had set up on places frequented by drug dealers and gang members, and it had payed off several times. This particular but of footage had been marked for further examination, as it showed what was clearly a clandestine meeting, but no drugs, money or other illegal items changed hands. Marc had theorized it might be just a couple of lovers meeting before going somewhere private, as there were many motels in the area, but Logan suspected it could be an information exchange, the body language was at the same time angry and detached...it seemed somewhat familiar to him, but he couldn't make the connection. Then, at the end of the short, intense exchange the woman walked out of the alley, and the camera caught a perfect shot of her face. Logan copied her image, and decided to run her through the usual databases later. A few moments after the woman had left, the man with her did the same, and Logan took the same snapshot distractedly. When he zoomed in and enhanced his picture, though, all thoughts of his impending night out vanished along with the lassitude that had filled him moments before. He knew that face.

The man in the picture was Zack.

Feeling the usual dread at seeing the blond transgenic grip his body, Logan checked the time stamp on the video.

It had been shot three months earlier, just before Zack had come by and tried to take Max away from Seattle. That also explained why the woman's body language and fluid, graceful step was so familiar to him: she was Manticore, almost certainly one of Max's sisters.

Logan printed both photos and set them aside. He had to leave, but as soon as he was back he'd look into it. He had promised Max to find her family.

It was about time Logan made good on his promise.

4


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Thank you to everyone that reviewed! The rating will change to M as of this chapter, since Max's language will turn a little stronger at times. Plus there will be some kissing, and a little nekkid Logan as the story unfolds. You've been warned!**

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**Chapter Six.**

Max didn't really notice the day go by.

Everyone else at Jam Pony, though, was painfully aware of her every move. The fact that Max spent the day grinning maniacally didn't help the already frayed nerves of her co-workers.

It took Normal half an hour to work up the courage to call her up to the dispatch desk and give her assignment. The full-blown, toothy, _evil_ smile she gave him had him literally running for his office, and shouting his instructions from behind the firmly closed door. It wasn't until Max happily exchanged high-fives with Original Cindy before sauntering out that the rest of the messengers breather in relief. There might've been a few whispered prayers: Sketchy would swear to his dying day he never fainted, and he _certainly_ didn't wet his pants in terror.

By the time Max was ready to leave from her apartment it was 7 PM. She had calculated half an hour to leave the city, another two and a half, maybe three to reach Portland. Plenty of time to make it before the midnight curfew. As she was waiting in line to leave Seattle she saw the late evening sky go from the usual grey to a roiling black mass, and when she presented her travel papers she was warned of the coming storm, which promised to be one to remember.

Max huffed in annoyance, and promised to herself to add this to the ever-mounting list of things to lay on Logan's lying ass. To her dismay – and Logan's eternal sorrow, she would make _certain_ of it – the promised storm crashed on her as she was half way to Portland. In the end she had to stop at a motel on the way there, because even her enhanced reflexes and night vision did little to help her in this storm; and as good as she was, it would only take one stupid fuck to run her over and spoil her week. So she resigned herself to another sleepless night, and decided to pass her time making plans.

At first she went over her intel: she didn't really know where Logan was going, and the only contact worth hitting was dead; the few remaining were the usual assortment of parasites and lowlifes, and would not have direct contact with him.

Her next strategy was to check the entry records on the checkpoints, in order to determine in which sector he was staying, and once her search area was defined she was gonna do a little old-fashioned recon. Meaning sneak around until she got a lead, or rather a whiff. She could track his scent for several blocks away, it was only a matter of time until she found him.

Of course, the constant rain put a serious crimp on her plans.

So Max spent the rest of her night planing on ways to make him pay. She discarded beating the shit out of him after only a brief consideration; she did like him, after all.

A _lot_.

So that left making him suffer...she'd thought about making him squirm by hitting on everything with three legs on sight, but that would've been a punishment for her, too...and then she remembered all the tales of past conquest she had endured from Kendra, and all the fiendishly clever ways she kept her boy toys strung along. Max leaned back on the bed and relaxed, as her mind started going through the dozens of little pranks and teasing she planned to play on Logan. Oh, he was gong to get some...eventually. Max laughed in the dark.

Kendra had been right, after all. This shit was _fun_.

************************

In the end it had taken Max almost four hours to go through the checkpoints and into the city.

By then she was pissed off and wet, her beloved leather pants sticking very uncomfortably to her frozen skin. At least the Sector Police in Portland were more efficient and serious about their jobs that the ones she was used to deal with. Or at least, they were more perceptive.

What little patience Max possessed had run out halfway through the ride over, and she was ready to make her displeasure known to the first fool that even looked at her sideways. She had almost snapped when one of the younger guards tried to hit on her. It almost made her smile, the poor guy didn't try to cope a feel, didn't try to jack her baby, he just hoped to score her digits... She wished Original Cindy had been there, to get a good laugh with her...

"Hey that's a nice bike you have there. A Ninja, right? And black, like-"

"Black like my mood." Max cut him sharply, giving him her dreaded 'don't even think of screwing with me' look. She'd dropped the bike stand and put both her feet firmly on the ground, preparing herself for trouble. There were another four guards withing hearing distance, and they were all watching carefully the exchange. When the guy hitting on her blushed and started sputtering, they did the last thing she expected.

They laughed.

And not evil, menacing chuckles she had come to expect from Seattle's finest, but booming, genuinely amused laughter. She was puzzled for a few moments, until she saw money changing hands...the others had sent the poor bastard to crash and burn, and had put money on it. She wanted to be annoyed, but Original Cindy and her did the same to Sketchy all the time at Crash...

That did made her smile. A little.

And then, the sergeant in charge of the checkpoint came along, and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, still chuckling.

"Ah, don't take it too hard, Stevens, she's way out of your league!"

Max tried to keep quiet. She really, _really_ did.

"What, you think you coulda' done any better?" she said smirking at him.

Again, she was surprised by the reaction her taunting had. The sergeant only smiled wider, and leaned closer.

"Little girl, I have moves you've never even _dreamed_ about."

Max lifted an eyebrow playfully, shot him her most winning smile, the one that netted her top tips every time, and leaned forward on the handle of her baby.

"Really? Care to share them with the rest of the class?"

"Oh, I'd love to, trust me. And you'd be defenseless against them."

"Oh? You think so?"

"Oh yeah. But see, the problem is, my wife is a little jealous, and tends to get snippy if I stray-" He made a scissor-like gesture over his crotch. "- and I'm kinda' attached to my little friends, so I'm gonna have to pass your kind offer."

He smiled winningly at her as he returned her papers and motioned to go through.

Max couldn't help herself. She let out a long, throaty laugh, the first real laugh since letting Logan ride her baby. She sped away from the grinning men with a huge smile, and blew them a kiss.

Maybe her stay on Portland wouldn't suck as much as she feared.

************************

After three days trudging in the unrelenting thunderstorm she found him.

It had taken longer than she'd anticipated, but the rain had masked most of his scent. It had been by chance that she'd found him, really. Max had come across his trail on a bakery, only because she had entered to buy somethin hot to eat, and among the warm, mouth-watering smells of freshly baked pastries she'd picked up the familiar musky scent that she'd come to associate with warmth and safety.

A few discreet questions later and she had discovered that Logan came early each morning around 6 AM to get his favorite treats hot from the ovens. So the next morning she set to wait for him.

She was still angry with him, for lying, for shutting her out, and especially for making her follow him around in the damned rain. She intended to make him squirm for a long while before forgiving him.

It had taken her only a couple of hours of inner turmoil to realize that, while not something that she was going to let him get away with, it wasn't so terrible, or so surprising for that matter. She knew that Logan had cut her off this mission because he was blaming himself for the death of his informant, and wanted to get back at the dirt bags responsible for that. Also, for someone so genuinely selfless and generous, Logan was also a proud man. Too proud, in her opinion. That pride made him do some stupid shit sometimes.

Yes, she understood why he had done what he did, and while she could forgive him that, she couldn't ignore the fact that he had decided for her. Again. That, she wasn't so ready to forgive or forget.

But on the other hand, she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Especially when he looked like _that_.

Logan had arrived at the bakery as she mused, and seeing him again sent a jolt of warmth and longing through her.

Damn, the man really cleaned up good!

He was wearing black, tight fitting jeans and a pale blue silk shirt that left very little to the imagination. He had his black leather jacket on, too. Even under the light morning drizzle she could smell him. His scent was laced with smoke, a slight touch of scotch and his own musky sweat. It made her mouth water.

There was no more room for doubts in her mind, she wanted Logan, hungered for him, needed him...and yes, she loved him. That little discovery had her scared for a while, but as she'd told Logan after his encounter with Nathan Herrero, someday he'd find someone that he'd be willing to rearrange his priorities for. And to Max, Logan was the one who moved her furniture, hell, the man had turned her whole neat little world upside down. And she could no longer imagine that world without Logan Cale in it. It was sad. Fuck, it was pathetic.

It was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Yep, she was straight up in love with the fool.

And she was gonna make him own up to his own feelings even if she had to beat them out of him.

Strengthened by her resolve, she followed him back to his place and waited for him to fall asleep. She would do a little more snooping, get the details of his op, and then give him a long overdue wake up call.

************************

As she had suspected, Logan didn't go straight to bed.

He eat his breakfast with coffee, and worked on his laptop for another hour before taking a shower and falling asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

Max waited a few minutes to be sure he was asleep before going over to his computer. As she had expected, he had spent the last five days contacting sources and doing surveillance on several places. That explained the clothes and the smell on him, he'd been hitting the clubs every night, trying to get a lead on the dealers. It was actually a good plan.

It was also a very stupid thing to do.

He'd gone in without back up, without letting anyone know where he was or what he was up to. A very good way to get killed. Max was again pissed. After all the grief he'd given her about taking unnecessary risks, and telling her to be careful every single time she went on a mission – not that she minded, of course: she knew Logan meant it – he'd gone and done every single thing he'd bitched at her for. Talk about double standards...

Then Max found the file on the dead informant, Marc Garver. He'd been a part of the Informant Network almost since the beginning, and a good one at that. Still, she couldn't let her anger go completely. But when she saw the picture of the man attached to his file, she understood.

Logan kept very little of his personal life in his apartment, at least in plain sight, and even less from before the shooting. There were a few photos here and there, mostly of her family, and of a younger, always smiling Logan that was a complete stranger to her.

And then there was a picture of Logan with Marc.

That on itself should've been a clear sign of how important this man had been for Logan, but there was something else, something that made her eyes burn and her throat itch uncomfortably: Logan was laughing at the camera.

Not the superior smirk she loved to hate; not the easy smile he gave her when they bantered late at night, the one that usually made her smile too; not even the small, sad smile he got on the rare occasion when he actually opened up and talked about some happy memory of his past, the one that made her want to hug him and kiss his frown away – not that she would _ever_ admit to that – no, this Logan was laughing happily, beer in one hand, his other arm thrown over Marc's shoulders as they both leaned drunkenly on the stained wall of some bar.

Logan had cared deeply for this man, and his death had hit him hard, hard enough to risk his life directly instead of doing things the Eyes Only way. Logan didn't just want justice.

He wanted revenge, he wanted retribution, and he wanted – no, he _needed_ - to take it by his own hand.

At that moment, Max hated him. And she loved him. But most of all, she understood him.

Her first thought was that he was a fucking hypocrite, he'd told her many times not to do dangerous, risky shit, like the time she went after Hanna, or when she went to meet whoever was running the ad with her barcode on the paper. He'd fought her, tried to talk her out of it, and in the end relented grudgingly. And here he was doin' the same thing!

Then it hit her: he knew, he had known exactly what was on the line, and why she chose to do as she had, and had tried to talk her out of it out of concern and friendship. Because he cared. Just as she would've tried to talk him out of this quest, given the chance. And when she failed to convince him, and she was sure she would've, she would still have his back.

Just as he had been there for her every time she had needed him.

And just as she had done a few times, he had just decided to take her out of the equation. She had gone over to the hospital to steal her meds, instead of asking for help. And it had landed her in jail, and almost back in Manticore. She had no intention of letting him out of her sight, now. There was no telling how much trouble the man could get into, left to his own devices.

But the best part...the best part was that hey thought alike, so alike it was scary. They argued, yes, and they didn't see eye to eye on many things. But when the chips went down, each was willing to risk his life for the other, to do anything necessary to help the other. And knowing that Logan Cale, defender of the downtrodden, protector of widows and little children everywhere, thought like her, reacted like her, felt like her...it made her believe she could actually be human. She remembered the time Logan had told her that not wanting to be alone, wanting to be with someone like yourself was a basic human instinct: she had assumed he was talking about her and Zack, and all her siblings. But it also applied to them.

Max allowed a single tear to fall, before wiping all evidence of her brief emotional moment.

Yeah, he was perfect. But more important, he was perfect for her. All she had to do now was to convince the most stubborn, willful man in Seattle to see things her way.

Easy.

Moving with unearthly grace around the dark apartment Max made her way to the bathroom, to collect the necessary equipment to achieve her objective, then moved back to Logan's bedroom.

She allowed herself a few moments to admire his hard, lean body. Seeing him go to bed straight from the shower she knew Logan was naked under the covers. He'd barely had time to crawl in bed properly, so the blankets rode down on his hips, exposing his flat, well defined stomach, and the trail of fine blond hair moving down from his belly button to places that made her mouth water just thinking about them. He looked...peaceful, young and carefree. He looked barely older than her...

Snapping her mind back to mission mode, she took the wet towel she'd procured from the bathroom, unfolded it and, taking one corner in each hand and snapped it on the air, as if to shake the excess water out of it...and then she snapped it on Logan's exposed chest. _Hard_.

************************

Logan had been dreaming about Max.

Nothing new there, really. Not sex dreams, of course. Well, hardly ever...OK, not _that_ often.

This time though, in his dream they'd just finished dinner and were playing chess. As was usually the case in his dreams, he was winning. As he called check mate, Max looked up at him in surprise, and then smiled with pride.

That was his most recurrent fantasy, as pathetic as it sounded. He needed, no he _craved_ her approval. She was his best friend, the person he trusted and confided in above all others. Ah, to hell with it, he craved her. All of her. Her smiles, her sense of humor, her company. Max had been the one bright spot on his bleak, desolate world since he'd landed in the chair. And he was afraid that this latest stunt he'd pulled would ruin their friendship. Ruin his chances at something more.

Dream-Max was still looking at him, with the mischievous half smile that always sent his heart racing. She stood, walked slowly, sultrily around the chess board and leaned over him until their faces were only inches apart. Max oh so slowly wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, and opened her mouth to say something... and then he felt the shock pain on his chest, and as he came awake he felt the cold water running down his chest.

Logan sat up abruptly, taking the freezing cold towel from his chest and staring dumbfounded at it. He looked around, adrenalin rushing through his body. Had he been found? He cursed as he remembered both his glasses and his gun lain forgotten by his laptop in the living room.

When he took a second, more careful look around he felt more than saw a black clad figure on the corner of the room, moving toward him. He started planing his escape, when he noticed the wicked smile of his attacker...and the green, gleaming cat-like eyes dancing above.

His last hope for escape - or at least a quick death – vanished as she heard the voice he loved taunt him in a sing-song tone.

"Loooogie! You got some 'splaining to dooooo!"

7


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

AN: Well, I have to say I'm flattered...1000 hits in under a week...Thanks to everyone who left a review, particularly to **Jeanetteg**, **nattylovesu**, **Beth Pryor**, **Brian2008, Crazy About Survivor** and **Alan Grey**. A special thank you to my peeps Cassie Crimson and Mari83 – without their support I'd still be stuck on chapter one.

Of course, anything not up to par is their fault, too.

**Chapter Seven**

Logan tried to calm himself, with little success.

Of all the things he has thought could go wrong, that he had planned for, he was not ready for this. He knew Max was very capable and resourceful, of course; she had been on the run from a government agency for 11 years, after all.

It did make him a little nervous that she'd tracked him in only a week. If Max had done so with limited resources, then what hope did he had against an organized effort? His mind, still dazed by the lack of sleep and the adrenalin rush started going over his plans for escape in case of exposure. He would have to reevaluate-

"Logan! Get your ass in here!"

Logan snapped out of his daze and realized Max had left the room, and was calling him from the living room. She had turned on the lights there, too. Sighing with resignation, he stood up and stumbled clumsily toward her. If he could convince her that he had done the right thing in coming here, maybe they still had a chance at remaining friends...and maybe something more.

As he stood on the doorway blinking at the harsh light he took in the sight of her: Max was wearing her usual leather cat suit, the one that always left him with a dry mouth, leaning on the desk, going through her files with a look of grim concentration. When she heard him arrive, she turned her face sideways to look at him.

He had hoped for a smile, or her blank soldier face, at least. But her already pissed off expression turned even more sour, almost into a snarl of contempt, and her eyes narrowed in anger. He didn't want to believe that she'd be so angry at him.

But it was too late, he'd pushed her away too many times, and now he'd lost his best friend.

************************

Max gave Logan a few moments to get his shit together, but she was all out of patience with him. She ordered him to get up, and started going over his files again, plans already starting to form on her head. When she heard him enter the room she schooled her expression in her usual no-nonsense face, and turned to look at him.

And found herself looking at a sleepy, very sexy and quite naked Logan.

It took a lot of effort for her to keep her cool, and to focus her eyes on his face. For a second she thought he was trying to distract her, or worse, to seduce her in order to get his way...

'_Hold on to that thought._'

But then she remembered this was Logan, the perfect gentleman who went from cool, collected general to blushing teenager in the blink of an eye. He wasn't hitting on her...the idiot had just forgotten he'd gone to bed naked.

_Naked_.

Dayum, but the man was _fine_!

Still, she had no intention of making his life easy, so she gave him an angry, disgusted face and snarled at him. She needed something to focus on, she had to really make an effort to keep eye contact, and stop her gaze from roaming his body. Of course, between her enhanced peripheral vision and her eidetic memory there was really not much left to the imagination, but he didn't need to know that...

Oh well, back to business.

"Logan, what the hell! What do you thing you're doin'? Is this your idea of a joke?"

Logan blinked several times, trying to clear his mind. It didn't work.

"Uh?"

"I said, what do you think you're doing? What are you trying to pull? What, d'you think I won't kick your ass like that?"

"I don't understand, Max. Like what? What did I do, what am I doing wrong now?"

"It's not what you're doing, it's rather what you're not doing. Namely, wearing clothes." With that she curved an eyebrow suggestively, while weaving a hand at his lower body.

Logan stood frozen for a moment, before touching the sides of his legs, as if patting down his pockets. Finding only bare skin, he gave out a very undignified squeak and run back to the bedroom.

This time, though, Max was prepared. She allowed herself to take a good view of his ass on his way out.

'_Such a nice ass, too._' She decided then that there wouldn't be any kicking involved with it.

Maybe a little spanking, though.

************************

It had taken Logan about fifteen minutes to get ready to face Max. He still couldn't believe he had just walked up to her naked...

What hurt him the most, though, was that she'd been more disgusted by him that anything else. He hadn't expected her to blush, but he'd hoped for some reaction other than contempt. At that moment, all hopes he'd harbored of moving their relationship to something more than friends had died. The best he could hope for was a return to their quid pro quo relationship, and maybe, hopefully, still be friends.

Gathering what little dignity had left, he put on his Eyes Only mask and returned to the living room. Max barely spared him a sidelong glance, probably to make certain that he had remembered his pants this time.

Burying all his lost dreams and hopes Logan approached Max after pouring himself a cup of coffee. The first thing he had to do was clear things up with her, explain why he'd gone without telling her.

"Look, Max...I know you're angry because-"

"Drop it Logan. It doesn't matter now. Not anymore."

Logan felt a cold shiver run up his spine. It was worst than he thought...

"No, Max, listen...I realize that you are angry about-"

"No, _you_ listen, Cale. I said it doesn't matter. I meant it. So just drop it and let's get this bitch over with so I can go back to my life. The sooner we're done, the better."

Logan felt his eyes burn. He hadn't cried since the shooting, and not for a long time before that. But the cold, detached tone of her voice, the finality of her words, left no room for mistakes: he had lost any chance he might've had of deeper relationship with Max. He had pushed her away, hurt her, for the last time. He had lost her.

And he knew that he'd never before loved anyone like he loved Max. He never would again, either. And it was all his fault.

Swallowing back his sorrow he sat at his desk and started calling up all the data he'd gathered. If this was to be the last time he'd see her, he would make sure to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

************************

Max watched all the emotions going through Logan's eyes, doing her best not to get caught. She had intended to make him suffer until they were ready to return to Seattle, but the poor guy looked about to cry after only fifteen minutes.

And Max had discovered a while ago that she could sustain many injuries, getting shot, freeze her ass off and hung upside down for hours, with no real trouble, but she couldn't stand to see Logan suffer. She was ready to give up her game, when she looked at his eyes. Those weren't the warm green eyes she loved to see, those were cold, hard, merciless: those belonged to Eyes Only. With Logan retreating behind his mask, she knew opening up to him would be pointless. She would wait.

"OK Max. I'm assuming you know why I'm here?"

"Assume away."

"I've only found a few leads into the drug side of the business, no word on the guns yer. Considering what I've seen so far I think whoever is in charge is keeping the guns and drugs separated, probably even on the hands of completely separate groups. That will limit our chances of getting to the top, but it also means that the lead we do have on the drug dealers will be safer to pursue."

"How d'you figure that?"

"Because gun runners tend to be more overtly violent than drug pushers. Less chance of personal risk for us while we check them. If both enterprises were run together then we would have a more aggressive target to deal with."

"Hm...Can't help to notice you keep saying 'we'. What do you mean exactly by that?"

"Come on, Max. You don't think I'm going to just sit here and wait, right? I've been doing my own recon for the last five days-"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I think you're gonna do; sit your ass down here and wait for me to get back. This is why you hired me, remember? This is what I was made for. I am, after all, a genetically engineered killing machine."

Logan blinked as her woulds hit him like a slap. He had known that Max hated those words, and had never used them again, hoping to put his stupid mistakes from early in their relationship behind. But Max had not forgotten, and was still angry about them. That, he could understand.

But the jab about having hired her hurt, more than he thought it would. He considered Max a friend, hell she was his best friend, and for her to see him in the same light as Normal hurt more that he thought possible. He wanted - he needed - to make her see that it wasn't like that.

"Max, listen...I'm sorry for calling you that. I don't think of you as anything less than human. If anything, you're more human that most people in this city. And I never considered you an employee. I know I can be difficult sometimes, and I pushed you away when you tried to be my friend, but I had hoped that we had moved past that by now. To me, you are a good friend, the best I have, and I don't want to lose that. I...I'll understand if you don't want to do this anymore after we take care of this mission, but I hope you'll still consider me a friend. I...care about you."

All plans Max had of stringing him along for a while longer vanished at the sadness in his voice. He was giving her an out, telling her he didn't care about Eyes Only, but still wanted her in his life as a friend. Logan thought that he had to choose between his best Eyes Only operative and his best friend. And for the first time since meeting him, Eyes Only had lost.

It was the closest thing to a romantic declaration she'd ever received in her life, and she knew how much it had cost him to say it. She had to fight to keep the smile from her face. She put her hand lightly on his arm, and waited until he looked up at her.

"Logan, it's OK. I do understand. He was your friend, and in your place I woulda' done the same." Logan did smile, a happy blooming smile that made her stomach flip. "But that still doesn't mean you're off the hook. The shit you pulled that night in your apartment? I'm gonna let it go, _this time_. You ever try that again and we're through. You'll never see me again. We clear on that?"

"Yes! Yes, I understand. And you're right, I should've-"

"Logan! Less talking, more hacking. I said we're aiigh, so chill. So, show me what you've got."

The next few hours were filled with the sound of Logan's keyboard, and their hushed voices as they went over the intel and formulated their plans. They were facing an powerful enemy, with unknown resources and contacts while far from their own support network. They had little to no resources to tap, no back up or alternate safe houses in case anything went wrong. They were on their own, alone against the world.

It had been a while since either of them had had so much fun.

AN2: OK, I know this i s ashort one, but I'll make it up with the next one, I promise. Come back tomorrow and you'll see what I mean...

5


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

AN: the song is, of course, Halo by Beyonce. I don't own that, either.

**Chapter Eight**

Max and Logan worked on their plans through the day, with only a short break for lunch. Much to her displeasure, it was take out rather than the usual fare at Logan's.

He apologized for that, claiming he'd not had much time to stock the kitchen, much less cook a proper meal. It did little to appease her. Logan had spent the rest of the day feeling her stare on the back of his neck.

After a shower and a short nap they'd decided on the next place to visit, a trendy club on the industrial district, famous for being exclusive and very expensive. This lead to a short but very heated argument about Max's wardrobe, or lack thereof. She had come prepared for the usual, B&E, snooping and ass kicking, and when Logan pointed out that her usual leather outfits were not going to cut it she snapped. Half an hour and many angry words later Logan had finally convinced her to go out and buy an outfit for the occasion. Max was about to argue, when he told her she might as well get a few more things while she was there, as they didn't know how long it would take them to complete the mission.

Max spent an hour in a boutique, purchasing a couple of outfits for the mission. She might not use skirts regularly, but she had done so on occasion; the few times she had, she had borrowed them from her roommate. Kendra had told Max once that it was a crime not to use skirts more often with legs like hers. Max decided to git it a try.

She then spent another two hours going from shop to shop, browsing for something more to her liking. In the end she treated herself to new leather pants and jacket – since her favorites had suffered considerable water damage – a couple of sweaters and several shirts and tops and a couple of jeans and cargo pants. To her delight, she'd also found a couple of pre-pulse, steel-toed combat boots in her size. Her last stop had her smiling all the way back to the safe house: she had bought matching set of silk bra and panties, complete with stockings and a garter, all in blood red with purple trimmings.

Logan liked how she looked in red, after all...

By 8 PM Max was hungry and cranky. She had hoped that Logan would've done the smart thing and stoked the pantry, or at least bought enough to make her dinner.

Instead, she had returned to find him still sitting in front of his computer, the dirty coffee cup and empty bag of crackers the only indication he'd even moved. When he told her to take a shower and get dressed Max had given him a dirty look, but had complied.

************************

Logan had spent most of the day working on the case, but as the day waned his mind was filled by images of a dazzling smile, a pair of beautiful brown eyes and the woman they belonged to. Try as he might he couldn't get his attention back on the game. After reading the same report for the fifth time he gave up. Seeing as Max was foremost in his mind he decided to do something about it.

It had been a while since he had courted a woman, years in fact. He had been considered quite the ladies man in college, and he knew he still had the skills; he had used them several times in the last three years to get information from witnesses and contacts. But the idea of using those tricks on Max made him uneasy.

In part because he knew Max would see right through it, and laugh in his face – if he was lucky. But mostly he didn't want to use what was mainly tricks to get laid on someone he cared for as deeply as he did for Max. He didn't want to get laid...well, not _just_ that. He had spent many hours, many nights sitting in the dark in front of his large window thinking about Max and their relationship. One thing he had came to accept was that he cared deeply for her, cared enough to let her go to Canada with her 'brother', rather than risk anything happening to her.

After she had returned, he had been giddy with joy. Seeing her in her stolen dress the night of Bennet's wedding had only made it easier to face the truth. He had not been lying when he told her she was the most beautiful woman in attendance; he had just omitted the fact that to him, she was the most beautiful woman everywhere, all the time.

He had not paid much attention to her at the reception, but he had noticed the open stares of admiration, jealousy and lust she'd garnered. He'd heard the comments, too. As he went through his routine before going to bed, he had realized that the comments he had hated were not those about her age or beauty, crude as they were, but the ones that painted her as an ignorant, vapid gold digger: everyone could see she was young and gorgeous, but her inner beauty, intelligence and strength of character were beyond the narrow minded idiots at the party. He had accepted then the fact that he wasn't just physically attracted to her, she was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman.

The next step had been to admit he wanted her, body, mind and soul.

Between this little epiphany and the very real pain on his foot, he had barely been able to sleep.

After he had regained his legs he'd began to consider the possibility of having a real, serious relationship with Max. He knew all the risks of getting involved with a coworker, let alone the dozen complications each would bring into the mix. But even after factoring in Eyes Only, Manticore and a certain over-bearing sibling and his less-than-brotherly feelings, he still wanted to try, wanted to make it work with Max.

He knew Max hadn't really had many serious relationships, Logan doubted she'd ever been in love before. He knew he loved her, lover her as she hadn't loved any woman before, not even Valerie. He just didn't know how to prove it to her, how to show the depth of his feelings to a woman who showed none. He was reasonably certain she cared for him as more than just a friend, he'd seen interest and admiration on her eyes, and what he thought to be desire, too.

His problem was that so far, his two attempts at seduction had ended up with Max tricked in front of a mirror and more recently, shoved rudely out the door. He needed to show her he'd changed, that he wasn't the cocky, arrogant man she'd know so briefly before the shooting, nor the distant man that had casually thrown her out before she'd even finished her dinner. Add to this the fact that she was still pissed with him, as evidenced with her short-tempered outburst of earlier that day and he was at a loss. He decided to do things the old-fashioned way; dinner and then dancing. Maybe a little flirting.

For the first time in years, Eyes Only and Logan Cale had the same goal in mind.

That fact was also lost to him.

************************

Max took her time in the shower.

She had decided that if Logan wasn't going to pay attention to her, she was gonna have to make sure to let him know she didn't like being ignored. As far as she was concerned, he had started things back at his place, she was just making the next move.

With that in mind she dressed to kill. Literally.

She wore her new underwear, with a knee-long black skirt, cut on the side to allow her to move, a sleeveless dark purple top that left most of her stomach exposed and matching black shoes with two-inch heels. She added a little eye shadow and bright red lipstick. Her new leather jacket completed her outfit. She checked herself on the mirror before leaving the bedroom.

If Logan didn't react to this, she would just throw him in bed and jump his bones.

It turned out she didn't have to worry. When Logan saw her standing there, leaning casually against the wall he stopped mid sentence and gasped for air. It took him a few tries before he could stammer a compliment. Max fought the urge to push him back into his chair, straddle him and give him a real reason to gasp for air. She settled for a smug smirk.

That would do. For now.

************************

Logan had seen beautiful women before. Many women, many times, in fact.

None of them had prepared him for the dark goddess smirking at him. He had always found Max beautiful, in her cat suit, in her messenger outfit, in her bike leathers, always. But the woman standing in front of him exuded sensuality and menace in a way he couldn't really explain. There was only one word he could think of to describe her.

She was _perfect_.

It took him a few moments to remember to breath, and another few to close his mouth and try to utter some woefully inadequate compliment. By the smug smile she gave him he guessed that was exactly what she had aimed for. She made him think about the proverbial cat about to eat the bird. He certainly couldn't object to be that bird.

Clearing his throat, he tried to gain some control of the situation.

"Ah, Max...I thought..."

"Yes, Logan?" Her smile grew wider, as she sauntered over to him. "You thought...?"

"Yes. I thought that since we don't have anything for a proper dinner here, and we're going to have a long night ahead of us you might like to go out to dinner?"

Max put a hand on her hip, and tapped her full lips with a newly-manicured finger. He noticed absently that her fingernails matched her lipstick color.

"Hmm...go out to dinner? Let me think. I don't know, Logan. A girl has to have some standards, you know? I've become accustomed to a certain quality, and I'm not sure if you can find something to fit my taste here..."

Logan blushed at the oblique compliment, and smiled at her. Max was in a good mood, and he would do anything in his power to keep her happy.

He really, _really_ liked this side of Max.

"Well, now that you mention it, there's this little French bistro I know. The food is excellent, I'm sure you'll love it."

"We'll see. But the wine better be pre-pulse. And I expect dessert, too; something sinful and chocolaty."

" 'Chocolaty', is it?" he asked with a smile.

"Less smiling, more walking. A girl's gotta eat."

************************

Logan had been right – not that she was going to tell him that, of course – dinner had been amazing. Almost as good as his usual culinary miracles. The restaurant had no menu, you picked the wine for each course and dinner was served around those choices.

Logan had chosen a Chilean Chardonnay for the entrée, an Argentinian Malbec for the main course and a sweet Madeira for dessert. All pre-pulse or course.

The first course consisted of tomato and basil soup, and a platter of raw oysters. Max asked him his opinion about the oyster's aphrodisiac properties. He had been expecting that since the waiter set the platter down, and calmly told her he really didn't know, since he had never had needed help in that area. Max just lifted an eyebrow and hid her smile in her wine glass.

Next came huge rib-eye steaks, with a side of steamed vegetables. Max had no comments about the dish, she was too busy eating.

For dessert, the waiter brought them a huge thing that was, as far as Logan could tell, a huge, hot brownie with ice cream, hot chocolate fudge and even more chocolate and diced fruit on top. It was meant to be shared, but the chef obviously had never cooked for an X-5; he'd taken a few spoonfuls for appearance's sake, but after Max started glowering at him he gave up.

All things considered, it was one of the best nights of his life. And it was just starting.

The club they were checking out was only ten blocks away, so they decided to walk. Logan was reminded of their first late night stroll, when he had tracked Max down at Crash. Unlike that night, this time neither felt the need to say anything, they just walked in comfortable silence.

When they arrived at the club Logan cringed at the block-long queue, but as he prepared to wait in line, as he had done the last few nights Max shot him an amused smirk and sauntered toward the door. Logan followed, curious as to what was on her mind. He had tried bribery, had tried charming his way in, all to no avail.

Max just flashed a smile, shared a few words with the doorman, and was promptly waved in. He just smiled in amazement and followed her inside.

_'Only Max...'_

************************

The club wasn't really her style, but it was alright.

The drinks were hideously expensive but were not watered down and the liquor was first rate, the lights were low, and the music was just loud enough that they had to lean into each other ear to talk.

'_Hey, bonus!_'

Logan had staked a small booth near the bar, where the music wasn't as loud while she did a quick recon of the place, checking all the exits and the position of all the cameras, in case she had to do something...drastic. By the time she returned to the booth Logan had ordered drinks for them; an imported beer for her, with a name that sounded like Sketchy puking outside Crash and a scotch for himself. Max had downed almost a third of her beer before she'd noticed the taste.

It actually _had_ a taste, for starters. It was also a lot stronger that her usual drink at Crash.

They drank slowly and checked the place discreetly for a while, before max started to feel restless, the music making her body hum to it's beat. Logan noticed, and motioned for her go ahead. Max only hesitated a moment before winding her way into the mass of bodies on the main floor. She would enjoy herself alone for now, make a rich boy or two cry and then she would drag Logan to dance with her.

She had time.

After almost an hour of frenzied dancing Max made her way back to Logan. Even though she had been having a great time, she'd never lost sight of him. Several women had sat on her seat, and tried to start a conversation with Logan, had offered to buy him drinks, but he just smiled and refused politely. He also managed to keep an eye on her, and judging by his angry scowl he was less than thrilled with the many men that tried to hit on her. When she started dancing with one guy, just for fun of course, she could feel his stare. Max considered for a moment to let the guy grope her, or even give him a kiss or two, see what he'd do, but she found the idea distasteful. Damn the man, she couldn't even enjoy teasing losers anymore!

For a moment she felt pissed, and a little scared. She'd never had any trouble turning away men, had never really gone for the usual dance to pick up guys, nor had she really been interested. Besides a few lapses in control while in heat, and a couple _really _bad mistakes, like that loser Darren, her sex life was more of a theoretical concept. Not to say she had no experience, but she'd wasn't Kendra, either. She just preferred to spend her time hanging with her peeps.

Still, she did appreciate a good looking man, and had no trouble toying with them, if she was in the mood. But now every last one she met was just not good enough. Then she looked back at Logan.

Now, _that_ was hot. Not just physically, the man had the brains and personality to match.

And judging by the looks he was giving her, he thought so too.

Max smiled at him as she reached the booth, and took his hand, dragging him into the dance floor. She thought he would complain, make excuses because of his legs. He just smiled and followed. Logan danced a little stiffly, but well enough not to make a spectacle of himself. Max, now...

Now that she had him there, she let go. She danced around him, pressing herself on his back, then shimmering in front of him, running her hands lightly on his chest and back, swaying her hips to the music. After a while, the music stopped for a moment and the fast, frantic song was replaced by a slower one. Max watched as people quickly paired up around them, couples moving slowly in each others arms. She felt a pair of strong hands on her hips, and looked back to find herself staring into Logan's broad chest. Moving her gaze to his face she took in his smile and stepped into his arms, throwing hers around his neck and pressing her body against him, swaying slowly to the music. Soon the song ended and another started.

Despite the fact that Logan took most of her concentration, she was still on 'mission more' and she was well aware of everything around her. After a few moments she became aware of the lyric.

Remember those walls I built  
Well, baby they're tumbling down  
And they didn't even put up a fight  
They didn't even make up a sound

I found a way to let you in  
But I never really had a doubt  
Standing in the light of your halo  
I got my angel now

It hit Max then how fitting those words were for her, for them both. She had spent more than half her life running, hiding her feelings behind walls made of sarcasm and lies. She had never allowed herself to really feel, for fear that it would hurt her. Truth was, she never had met anyone that made the risk worth it. She had never had a friend as good as original Cindy, and she'd never let herself care so deeply for a man before Logan. Oh, she had felt the stirrings of caring for a man beyond simple lust, but she'd always pushed them or just run away.

Until Logan Cale had come into her life, and turned it upside down. She had tried to stay away, tried to ignore her feelings: he _was_ dangerous for her. But he was also the first person to know her, to see beyond her though attitude, talked to the person, comforted the scared child and cared for the woman. He knew most of her dark, deep secrets, and gave her sympathy instead of pity, compassion instead of disgust.

It's like I've been awakened  
Every rule I had you breakin'  
It's the risk that I'm takin'  
I ain't never gonna shut you out

Everywhere I'm looking now  
I'm surrounded by your embrace  
Baby I can see your halo  
You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more  
It's written all over your face  
Baby I can feel your halo  
Pray it won't fade away

She had broken all her rules, ignoring every instinct that told her to run and forget him. She had refused to leave him, had refused to go with Zack, twice. She had kicked her brother's ass in order to run back to him. And it just felt right. He _was_ everything she needed, everything she had expected to find with her siblings. Embracing his hopeless, ridiculous crusade she had found a purpose, a reason to be alive beyond mere existing. With him, she had finally escaped Manticore.

Without thinking Max had brought one hand to caress his face, while the other stroked the hair on the back of his neck. She looked at his eyes, and saw everything she felt mirrored there. Logan moved his hands slowly up her sides, one resting on her shoulder, the other sliding up his arm to the hand touching his face. He rubbed his fingers lightly over the back of her hand before taking it on his and placing soft kisses on her palm. Logan buried his other hand in her thick chestnut hair and closed the distance between them, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips and back. Their faces inched closer, until their nosed touched. Their eyes met one last time before closing, and then their lips met, softly, tenderly. Later, when their respective friends asked, they would admit that they didn't know who started the kiss. One second they were apart, and the next they were not. To them, it didn't really matter.

That first kiss was followed by another, and then by another.

Soon they were lost in each other. Their bodies pressed together, hands touched, caressed, groped. Max thought nothing could compare to the feeling of his lips on hers, until she felt his tongue touching, probing, and opened her mouth to him. He tasted like fine wine, one flavor giving way to another, overpowering her senses.

And then the small part of her still keeping track of her surroundings heard someone asking for the drugs they were tracking. She growled in frustration; she didn't want to stop, didn't want to let go of him.

But she knew that she had to.

With a sigh, she pushed Logan away gently, and looked at his eyes. She saw a flash of confusion and hurt that he tried to mask, but his eyes, normally bright green, were almost black with lust. Max let out a throaty chuckle. It seemed Mr. Eyes Only was human, after all.

When Logan tried to protest she silenced him with a finger on his lips, and couldn't stop herself from caressing them. She bit her lower lip, moaning slowly. Damn, the man could _really_ kiss!

"Hold that thought, Logan. We have a winner over at the bar. The guy with the red suede jacket. See him?"

Max had turned to look at her target when she felt Logan biting her finger playfully. She turned back to look at him, only to find herself pinned by his stare. She could almost feel his eyes as they roamed her body unashamedly. When he leaned back toward her she held her breath. If he kissed her again she would not stop him. Fuck the mission.

Instead, he whispered in her ear.

"Later, then?"

Max took a deep breath, and touched his face one last time.

"Oh yeah. Later."

Putting on their game faces, Eyes Only and his Field Commander turned and strode toward the bar.

8


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**AN: Sorry it's late!! But hey, it's still Sunday here...OK, my bad. Tomorrow's chapter might be a little late as well, but I'll do my best to keep the daily schedule. Now, on with the show!**

**Chapter Nine**

That night set the pace for the next week.

After making contact with the seller Max and Logan chatted with him for a a while, playing up the part of bored, rich kids seeking a thrill. Max wasn't surprised that Logan was good at it, but the almost imperceptible tightening around his mouth and eyes made her think that it had something to do with some past memories. Her first impulse had been to dig into it, to make him open up to her. She had decided to be open and honest with him, and expected him to do the same. Of course, Logan wasn't exactly aware of their new arrangement, so she decided to simply ask, and work from there.

After a few more minutes of inane banter they had purchased a few drugs, and decided to call it a night.

They had discussed this possibility, and Max had argued that they should make a few buys, to make themselves known as potential clients. Logan had countered that it was dangerous, as it made them known to the dealers, and he didn't want to risk the exposure. The argument lasted almost an hour, but in the end they'd agreed to go with it if the opportunity presented itself.

The other part of Max's plan made Logan just as nervous. Max intended to follow the dealer, locate his supplier and do the same in a couple more clubs, working their way up to the main distributor. He hated the idea of putting her at risk, knowing he didn't have the means to help her if something went awry. He had dreamed of being back on his feet, of being an asset rather than a burden for her.

Standing in the rain outside the club, watching Max slink away after her mark, he wished to be back on his chair, ready to help her at a moments notice.

Swearing loudly, Logan made his way back to the apartment.

************************

Max was having a blast.

She had eaten a great meal, had danced, downed a few beers, and made out with Logan. Now all that was left was a little recon, and then it was back to the apartment. Back to Logan.

Max flushed as she remembered the mixture of amazement and hunger on his eyes after they'd kissed. And the way he pouted in disappointment after her words sunk in. Max chuckled softly. Making grown men pant, making them groan, making them cry...that was easy.

Making the all-mighty Eyes only pout because he had to put work before play? That was _huge_. And the fact that Logan had wanted to, made her warm and tingly.

Which was a good thing,considering she was freezing her ass in the rain. While it had been worth it just seeing Logan babble at the sight, the skirt was definitely not the best outfit for a covert mission. Sighing she followed his target as he made his way in the rain. She had stashed a pair of black running shoes in Logan's jacket, and had sent him back home with her shoes and a lingering kiss. She shook herself mentally. There would be time for him later.

************************

Logan had wanted to wait up, but the exhaustion of the very long day had won, and he barely remembered Max marching him up to the bed.

He woke up early in the morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He laid there a few minutes, trying to clear the cobwebs of his mind. He remembered the club, and the dancing, and the kiss. Kisses, actually. He also remembered his displeasure at having to cut his evening short. He had spent five nights trying to make contact, and the moment he finally made his move, when he and Max finally took the next step, the bastards decided to show. He was busy comparing his current situation to a pre-pulse sitcom when he felt someone watching him.

"Hey."

Logan looked at the door, where Max was leaning on the wall with a small smile and two mugs of coffee. Wearing a pair of gym shorts and a Yale t-shirt he had noticed missing a few months before.

"Hey yourself. So that's where the shirt went..." he sat up in bed, smiling back.

"Well, I needed something to wear after I showered at your place, and you weren't using it." Max walked slowly toward him, sat beside him on the bed and gave him one mug. "Besides, I'm a thief, remember?"

Logan chuckled, took the proffered mug and put it down on the night table. Then he took Max's free hand and tugged lightly.

"Yes, but that means I can sneak into your place and take some of your clothes, then."

Max leaned over and whispered in his ear. "No. But if you behave I might let you keep a few things" She straightened, biting her lower lip nervously.

Both knew she had more than a few clothes back at his place, that had become necessary after more than a few missions left her badly needing to shower. She was talking about something else, and both knew it.

Logan stared at her in surprise. He knew that they'd have to talk about the kiss, and about the nature of their relationship. He had feared she would say it was a mistake, or make another attempt to chalk it up to their emotional state, or just run away from it. He certainly didn't expect her to make a play for a more serious relationship so directly. Well, direct for them, anyway.

He noticed then that Max had dropped her gaze to their hands, and felt her try to pull her hand away. He squeezed it, and brought his other hand to the back of her neck, leaning in to kiss her. After a few moments – minutes? hours? - leaned back on the bed, looking at her with a smile.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Max gave him a dazzling, happy smile and sat fully on the bed, with a hand on his legs.

"Good morning. You know, a girl could get used to this."

"Oh? To what? Clean clothes? Fresh coffee?"

Max swatted his leg playfully. "To the look in your face after you kiss me."

"Oh that. Well, I could get used to kiss you first thing in the morning, too. What do you think we should do about it?"

Max gasped in mock surprise.

"Logan Cale, are you suggesting I come over every morning to wake you with a kiss? I'm shocked!"

"Well, a kiss and coffee, actually. Of course, if getting up early is a problem you might want to just stay overnight."

"Oh? You want me in your guest bedroom, then?"

Logan's breath hitched at the way Max was smiling. Well, if she wanted to play dirty he was more than willing to accommodate her.

"In the spare bedroom, in mine, on the couch, on the dining room table, on the kitchen counter..."

He smiled wickedly at the effect that had on Max. Her expression didn't change, but the flaring of her nose and the dilated pupils told another story. Clearly it was the answer she had hoped for.

"Just so we're clear, I meant that-" Max silenced with a long, hungry kiss.

"I know what you meant, Logan. But..."

Logan did the silencing this time.

"I know. We're in the middle of a difficult op, too many things can go wrong, and we need to be ready. Once we're back in Seattle, we'll have dinner, a bottle of wine or two, and then we'll see were this takes us."

Max dropped her eyes, looking nervous.

"Where, Logan?"

"Well, I assumed my place, but if-"

"No, I meant where do you want this to take us?"

Logan could see she was still a little nervous, could understand her reticence, her doubts. Every time they'd come close something happened, someone needed to be saved, some great evil needed to be averted. Well, he was going to have to reassure her. He leaned in again, smiling at the way Max shivered as his scruff rubbed her face. He placed his lips on her ear, and answered in a low, hoarse whisper.

"I told you. To the spare bedroom, to mine, to the kitchen..."

Max laughed, clearly happy with his answer. She pushed him back on the bed and stood.

"You better get your ass out of bed, then. We have a lot of work to do." She turned and walked out, stopping by the door "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

"The dining table, Logan? Really? I eat on that thing!"

Logan chuckled as he drank his coffee. Then it occurred to him he had just boasted his sexual prowess to a genetically engineered soldier, one twelve years younger than him to boot. Well, he would have to show her a few of his tricks.

All things considered, life was really good.

************************

For the next seven days they followed the same pattern. Logan had started cooking, but other than that their nights were pretty much the same. Dinner, then to the club, drinks, they'd dance and end up in a boot or a secluded corner kissing and groping each other as if their lives depended on it.

All for the mission, of course.

Once they identified a few sellers they had found the distributors, and a few days later the had located the warehouse there the drugs were stashed.

Max trailed people, taking pictures while Logan had his way with the city's records. The main and secondary locations used by the gang were all leased through an import and export company based in Barcelona, and after a through search of its assets they also located the weapons.

Logan gathered all the evidence he could, made several copies and sent them to the Portland and Seattle police, and the FBI, and had Bling transmit the report he had pre-recorded from his safe house in Seattle. They had decided to remain a few days in Portland to make sure this time everyone responsible was captured.

As it turned out it had been a wise choice.

By the time his hack had aired the authorities had received all the data, but the Portland police was too slow to respond. They had planned for that, and had video cameras ready at the main location, catching a meeting of the Deputy Chief of police trying to convince the smugglers that he would take care of the problem. After showing this conversation in a second broadcast things worked as intended. Arrest were made, drugs and guns seized, charges were brought up.

Logan was satisfied, Marc was avenged, and Max was happy.

She was very anxious to get home, eager have Logan make good on his offer. She had gone off to pick up Logan's favorites from the nearby bakery for breakfast. She was happy. She had not been really happy in a long while, not like this. The soldier in her screamed that it couldn't be true, that things didn't work like that for her. Made her want to run from it. But she had decided she was through running from her problems and fears. She'd gotten a glimpse of what life with Logan could be like in the last week, and she wanted it all the time.

So it came as a shock to her to find Logan sitting in the living room, waiting for her, with a grim expression and guilt flashing on his eyes.

"Max....We need to talk..."

**AN2: Just to clarify, when Logan wishes to be back in the chair he's just reflecting how being back on his feet didn't improve things that much for EO, and how really useful and capable he was then. Just a little bitter mulling on wasted time, peeps!**

**Thanks again to Mari for her help and advice. If you don't like this, it's her fault, too. :P**

5


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

AN: Again, I'm late! Sorry... Next chapter will be the last one, and it'll be likely late. I'll try to close everything up, so I may take a few days, but I hope to have it up by Thursday at most.

Thanks for reading!

**Chapter Ten**

Max felt her body go cold.

She might not have had much experience in relationships, but she'd seen movies, read the books, and listened to way too many of Kendra's tales of woe not to know what that phrase meant. Suddenly the voice in her head yelling at her to run grew louder, more insistent. Then she felt anger. But to her chagrin, that only lasted a moment. All she felt then was sadness. She should've known better.

Trying to keep the hurt show in her eyes Max dropped the bag of pastries on the table and walked to the bedroom. She took out her backpack and started stuffing her belongings in it. She hesitated a moment when she saw her new clothes: she knew she should take them, get something out of this mess, but every piece of clothing brung memories of Logan. She didn't – couldn't – handle that.

"Max..."

She stiffened, and then continued packing. She had not heard him enter. She was _really_ of her game lately. Max ignored him and moved to the bathroom to gather her toiletries. This time she heard him follow.

"Max, what-?"

"Don't Logan. Just...don't, OK? I'll make it easy for you. Just stay away from me."

"Max, why are you doing this?"

Logan tried to put his hand on her arm. That was her breaking point. She snarled as she pulled away from him. She was famous for that sneer, that angry face; she had made grown men weep with it. The prick just looked at her with a confused expression.

"Please, Max! Tell me what's wrong, what did I do?"

"You're a smart boy, Logan. You'll figure it out. Now get away from me."

She started to walk out of the bathroom, expecting Logan to step away from her.

He didn't.

"No, I'm not letting you do this. You're not going to run away from me. Not when we finally have a chance!"

"A chance for what, Logan? For you to tell me that you'd rather be friends? That we should be partners instead of...of whatever it is you seemed to want yesterday? I'm sick of being ditched by assholes when they get tired of me. I just..." Max lowered her head in defeat. It hurt too much. "I never thought you'd be one of them..."

"Max this is crazy! What makes you think I want you to leave? I didn't say anything..." His mouth hung open, his face slack with shock. He started to talk a few times, only to stop and try to start again. In the end, he did the only thing he could.

He laughed.

He knew, of course, that laughing at her face was usually a bad idea, especially when she was hurt or angry. But emotions had been running high all week, and the situation was just too ridiculous. He laughed, looked at Max's hurt expression, then laughed again. Looked at her again, took in her pissed off face, and laughed some more.

He didn't stop until Max shoved him out of the bathroom and into the bed. She was still hurt and angry, but Logan's reaction puzzled her. Besides, she didn't remember him laughing like this, ever.

Then Logan was falling back as the back of his legs hit the bed, and his hand shot forward to grab hers, taking her down with him.

Max froze as she felt his hard, firm body under hers. Felt the heat coming off him, heard his breathing hitch. She cursed as her treacherous body reacted to Logan, molding herself over him, relaxing as her heart rate went into overdrive. Then she remembered that she was angry at him, and why. Max tried to pull away, but he just hug her to himself and buried his nose on the top of her head, breathing in deeply and kissing her forehead. Hearing his deep, throaty groan made her want to stay there forever. He took another deep breath before speaking.

"Max...did you think I was about to give you _the talk_?"

Max propped herself up and looked at him. There was still mirth dancing on his eyes, but he was serious.

"If you know to call it _the talk_, then you know why I wanted to leave before you kicked me out."

Logan sighed again, remorse replacing the mirth in his eyes now.

"Oh, Max... I'm sorry, I never thought you would react to that phrase, I didn't expect you to know that particular cliché...Let me make something very clear: I don't want you to leave. I don't want you out of my life. I don't want you out of the penthouse, out of my bed, away from my arms for any reason. Are we clear on that?"

Max felt a rush of warmth spreading through her. She relaxed and let herself meld into his arms, losing herself in his scent. She nuzzled and nipped her way from his chest to his chin, before attacking his mouth. After a few moments they managed to tear away from each other.

"OK Logan, I believe you. You don't want me to leave. So what did you want to talk about?" She crossed her arms on his chest, and laid her head over them, looking into his eyes. She saw the look of guilt and remorse return to his face, and frowned. "Logan. I know that face. What did you do?"

"Max...it's not what I did but what I forgot to do. And I was afraid you would misinterpret my intent. I was afraid you'd be angry with me, and wouldn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. I...I need you. I can't imagine my life without you anymore, and the idea of doing anything to risk that scares me. I know that I'm-"

"Logan!" Max slapped his chest to stop him. He was babbling, and while she found this new, flustered Logan – flustered by her – incredibly endearing, she wanted to know what had him in this state. "I'm not going to leave you. Not yet, anyway. But if you don't stop stuttering and get to the point I _will_ kick your ass. So spill."

Logan took a deep breath and hugged Max. It might well be the last time she let him touch her, he might as well enjoy it...

"It's about Zack...."

***************************************

Max didn't leave.

She didn't kick his ass, either, although she came close a couple of times. She had to admit that he had made a good point, she probably would've thought he had kept his little secret just to keep her on the mission. She probably would've smacked him, too.

But in the spirit of their new relationship – whatever it was – she let her mind do the thinking.. And Logan would never do that to her.

Keep secrets, yes. Withhold information he thought she didn't need to know, certainly. But he had never lied to her, not straight out, and for a woman who had spent most of her life lying to everyone, the difference was huge. She did trust him, after all. With some of her darkest secrets, with her life, and, as sappy as it sounded – Max cringed just to think the words – she trusted him with her heart.

Still, Logan had to do a lot of groveling and give many concessions before she left him off the hook.

She spent fifteen minutes going over the video, drinking in the sight of her sister.

Because it was her sister, there was no doubt in her mind. Zack had known that Tinga was in Portland, and after his run in with Max he had came to see her, to get her to move away, by the look on her sister's face. And by the look on Zack's, she guessed he'd had no luck.

She had spent another fifteen just looking at her picture with a smile on her face. Tinga had grown into a very beautiful woman, and she wanted to see her, to talk to her, to hug her and never let go. Now she only needed to find her...

She shouldn't have worried about it: Logan had spent lots of mission time before she arrived doing that. He had found Tinga, found where she worked, where she lived, and had everything ready for her.

Her kiss of gratitude turned into another frantic groping session, one that almost got out of hand. The only reason it didn't was that her window of opportunity was coming up, and as much as she wanted Logan, she had waited eleven years for her sister. She knew Logan would wait.

Max and Logan sat on a park bench one block away from the bakery where Tinga worked in the mornings, waiting for her to leave. Logan had told her how he had run her picture through the police's employment records, using the face recognition software his family's company marketed alongside the Police Drones. Turned out her name was Penny Smith, a name she scoffed at until she realized that it was a great cover, since it wasn't false; it was her married name.

In only eight days, Max had fun, had danced, had managed to score herself a boyfriend, and find a lost sister.

All told, a pretty good week.

***************************************

At five PM sharp Penny Smith went home.

She had an hour before her husband arrived from work, after picking up her son from school. She had left everything ready for dinner in the morning, before dropping Case on her way to work. She knew many mothers complained, that keeping the house in order and working was too much, but for a woman who had spent her formative years either as a slave or on the run, her hectic domestic life was child's play. Pun intended.

As was her routine she made her way through the park, enjoying the rare quiet of the place. Her mind was never completely relaxed, of course, and she noticed the couple snuggling on the bench a few hundred yards ahead of her.

It took her mind a few seconds to recognize the man. It was the same guy who had shown up every morning for the last two weeks at an ungodly hour, on his way home from a night of hard partying, to grab some breakfast hot from the ovens. She had seen him a few times, when she had volunteered to cover for a friend who needed the days off. He was certainly a hard man to miss, he had a quiet but noticeable air of confidence and authority, unlike the usual spoiled rich brats that just reeked money and bad taste. He wasn't too hard to look at, either.

He was sitting with a young woman, but from her position she couldn't make out her face; she was sitting sideways on the bench, facing him, and away from her. Still, she could see enough of her clothes and her firm, athletic build to know she was not the kind of girl a man like that would socialize with. Maybe she was a hooker, or he was slumming

She let her mind wander back to dinner, keeping an eye on the couple more because of her training that of any interest.

As she came closer Penny could hear their voices, the soft, cultured tones of the man, the teasing, vibrant voice of the woman – girl, actually, she couldn't be older than her - as they talked and joked. Penny saw his eyes, riveted on his companion's face, drinking in the sight.

Ah, that's what it was. The poor fool was helplessly, head-over-heels in love with the brunette. The cynic soldier in her mocked him, laughing at the older man in love with one of the wild, callous children of a broken world. The young woman in her, the one whose heart, even after six years, swelled with love every time her husband smiled at her.

Tinga predicted an ugly, messy end to his dreams. Penny wished them their happy ending.

She sighed. Sometimes it was hard to know who looked back at her from the mirror...

Penny walked by, sneaking a glance at the younger woman. She almost whistled out loud. The girl was gorgeous. Then the man looked at her, and she saw a flicker of recognition there. For a moment she felt the cold fingers of dread grip her stomach, and almost gave in to her instinct to neutralize the threat and retreat. Then the rational part of her remembered that he had met her several times, and likely recognized her from the bakery.

The man nodded at her with an amiable smile before turning back to his companion, but she saw it – there was a quiet strength in his eyes, purpose and a glint of steel beneath the pleasant smile. He was more than he appeared. _Way_ more.

Penny forced herself to keep walking with a tight smile, willing him to be just what he appeared.

Then she heard the woman move.

Penny let herself go, let Tinga take over, and prepared to fight her way out. She run her options in her mind, where her nearest stash of weapons and cash were, how fast could she get to one of her safe places, could she intercept John and Case before they got home...

_God_...they were waiting for her at work, they knew where she lived, and with _whom_...

She heard them both stand, and prepared herself to move. Then another thought occurred to her...the park was wide open, she knew there were no Tac-Teams nearby...that meant that the girl was Manticore, and the blond man her handler...that made things more difficult...

"Penny...? Penny Smith?" The man's voice had the dreaded ring of authority. It was cloaked in formal, well-mannered tones, but it was there.

She turned halfway to face them, keeping her weight on her toes, ready to bolt. She took her first good look at the younger woman. There was no doubt, she was an X-5. The way she carried herself spoke of deadly grace, a predator waiting for the command from her master. Tinga assessed her enemy; Tinga tried to see if she could find one of the sisters she had left behind in her face. Maybe Jace...?

But as she studied the woman's face, she saw something that surprised her: there were tears brimming on her eyes, brown, soulful eyes that spoke of many terrible things, but still shone with empathy and...love? She knew this woman...

"Tinga?" The girl's voice broke, and tears fell unchecked. The man put a hand on her shoulder, and rubbed her back softly with the other, muttering soft words of encouragement. The girl smiled at him, and she could see her dark, shining eyes reflect the same love she'd seen before on his green eyes.

She knew her, then.

"...Maxie...?"

Max smiled brightly at her, and both women covered the distance between them in an instant, hugging each other with the quiet desperation of someone facing a dream, wanting to believe, needing to make sure...

"Hey, big sister. I missed you..."

AN2: You didn't really think Logan would be _that_ stupid, did you? The man is very smart, if a little stubborn and oblivious at times...Kudos to **nattylovesu** for figuring out the reason for Logan's (poorly chosen) words. Have a cookie!

R&R peeps!

6


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Don't owe them, wish I did.

AN: OK, peeps! Last chapter! The song's still 'Halo', and it doesn't belong to me, either.

**Chapter Eleven.**

Logan watched the two young women as they hug each other and sat down to talk.

He remained close, far enough to give them privacy, but close enough to catch the looks Max gave him from time to time. She had seen Max content, particularly after a good meal; he had seen her smile in delight at her bike, had seen her smirk in triumph after a successful mission: but he had never seen her just..._happy_.

He didn't think it was possible, but it made her look even more beautiful.

They chatted for a while, until Tinga remembered she was due to pick up her son in less than fifteen minutes. Logan offered to take them in the car; Max's frown puzzled him for a moment, until she told him she wanted to show off her baby.

Laughing, Logan then offered to drop them at Tinga's house and return with the SUV, as there was enough space in back for the bike, but Max just gave him a calculating stare. Logan managed to keep his cool under her gaze, but it took a lot - he was reminded once more that there was more than a little wild cat in his girlfriend. He was so focused on remaining aloof he missed the mischievous twinkle in her eye that usually preceded her rare, bright smiles, the ones he liked to think were mostly for him. He had known many people who smiled with their mouth, and then spread over their faces: Max was the first person he had ever met where her eyes started the smile, before tugging her lips up. The fact that he knew such minute, telling details about her made him smile in return.

Max sauntered over to him, put a hand on his chest and rose on tip toes to leave a fleeting kiss on his cheek. It was her other hand that was his undoing, though; he felt her small fingers slide up his leg, over the side, into his pocket...and then Max was gone, and so were his keys. He didn't have time to protest, though, as she threw him the keys to her bike.

It was a huge sign of trust, he knew. The effect was spoiled slightly as Max proceeded to explain in very graphic detail all the painful things she would do to him – or rather, to certain parts of his anatomy – if he even scratched her baby. Even with the threat of dismemberment included, Logan knew it was as close to a declaration of love and devotion as he was likely to get from her.

All things considered, life was good.

***************************************

Max and Tinga chatted as they drove to the school, where they found Case waiting at the door. Max was instantly taken by the kid...yesterday she barely had a boyfriend, now she had a sister, brother-in-law and a nephew. She remembered how she'd almost stayed in Seattle, writing Logan off and moving on with her life, and decided that she would forget his little indiscretion after all.

She was taken by the little boy, he was bright and funny, and cute as hell. And the little monster knew it, too. Soon she found herself wrapped around his little finger, but considering he was family, she could live with that.

When they arrived at Tinga's place Max found herself led to the living room, where Case sat her down and ordered his new aunt to help him with his coloring book while Tinga started dinner. Max suddenly realized how wildly out of character this was for her, playing with a kid while her sister cooked. She was completely relaxed and happy. It took her a while to make the connection to her usual evenings at Logan's, lazying around while he prepared her dinner. The damned man had screwed her up big time, had made her soft.

She loved him for that, too.

A little over half an hour after they'd got home she heard the distinctive roar of her baby, and moments later Logan was at the door. Of course, he came bearing wine and ice cream. _Lots_ of ice cream. At hers and Tinga's amused expressions, he just shrugged and gave them his best roguish smile.

"Well, she _is_ your sister, Max..."

Tinga's husband arrived an hour later to find his house filled with laughter and screaming, as Max had taken it upon herself to keep Case amused, and in her book that meant running around with him. She had played a couple of times with Omar, Theo's kid, and she knew kids his age had tons of energy, so she decided to help him burn a little. Or a lot.

Dinner was great, for many reasons. She had experienced the whole 'family dinner' deal a couple of times with Theo's family, but in this case was different, because it was _her_ family. And because she had Logan to share it with. And because he made things seem easy, he talked with Tinga and her husband Charlie about everything. He weaved her into the conversation with ease, and made all the appropriate comments and gave the usual smiles, handling the situation like the upper crust socialite he used to be. He was a handy man to have around.

After dinner was finished and Case put to bed, the four stayed up late talking, getting to know one another. Logan had introduced himself as Robert Eastman, journalist, and herself as Maxine Gutierrez, as stated in her forged Id. When midnight approached Logan had excused himself, claiming he had to work in the morning, and exchanged keys with Max. Charlie also went to bed, leaving the sisters to themselves; it seemed 'Penny' suffered from insomnia, so it wasn't really a surprise for him when she sent him to bed with a kiss.

After cleaning up they decided to take their conversation elsewhere, and Tinga took her to her favorite thinking spot, the water tower on a building three blocks from her house. They swapped stories of their early days after the escape, the pulse, and their many close encounters.

This was the conversation Max had been dreading since she had seen Tinga's picture.

Haltingly, Max told her about Brin, about leaving her for Manticore. About her close encounters with Lydecker. About finding Zack, only to lose him again when she refused to toe the line. By the angry snort from her sister, Max gathered her C.O. Had tried to pull rank on her too, with similar success. By the time Max told her about Zack sacrificing his freedom for her, and the suspicious accident that destroyed the chopper carrying him, she was weeping. She knew she was responsible not only for Zack's fate, but for anything that may happen to all her other siblings when he couldn't be there for his unit. She expected Tinga to hate her, or at the very least to be angry with her.

Tinga just held her and whispered in her ear, rocking her slightly. Max allowed herself to be reassured, knowing her sister didn't judge her, didn't blame her for their loss. She had never felt so safe before, except with Logan.

_Logan._

After a few more moments in Tinga's arms, Max stood back and started talking about him. She knew Tinga had questions, Max had only told her in the car that he knew about them, about Manticore. Tinga just looked at her, long and hard, and asked a single question. Did she love him?

Max stared back at her, then looked at the road while she though about it. It didn't take long, really. She knew what she was asking, not just if she liked him, but if she trusted him with her life and her secrets. Max gave her a huge, happy smile and said yes.

Focusing again on the present, Max then told her about how they'd met, leaving only the exact nature of his work, and Eyes Only, out of the story. As she recounted all the adventures and close calls they'd had in the last eight months she realized as she shared the details with Tinga that there was a new feeling swelling inside her; pride.

She loved the stubborn idiot, yes, but above everything else, she was proud of him and his quest to save the world.

Eventually Max hugged her sister goodbye, after promising to visit her in the morning. Tinga could go a few days without sleep with little problem, not like Max, but good enough. But she also wanted to go back to her bed, and her husband, and be there when her son woke up. Since Logan and her had decided to stay at least a few more days, she could wait.

Besides, there was another bed, another man, waiting for her.

***************************************

The next few days they settled on a new routine.

Max and Logan would go to the bakery for breakfast, and spend the morning and early afternoon sightseeing, and then pick up Tinga, and later Case. They had dinner together, either at Tinga's or out. Logan outdid himself with his cooking, Max bragged about it, and everyone was happy. Then they would either go back to the safe house together, or Logan would return first while Max spent most of the night with her sister. Max had been nervous about leaving him alone for so long, so soon after finally getting their act together, but Logan had assured her he understood, and promised that they would have enough time for themselves once they got back to Seattle. When they did went home together, they'd go straight to bed and spend a few hours making out and talking, until Logan fell asleep. Max would then stay curled up in bed with him, sometimes napping, sometimes just watching him sleep, marveling at how she didn't feel the need to go out, to run the streets on her bike. She knew it wouldn't always be like that, but for her it was enough.

They had also agreed to wait until they returned home before exploring the more...physical aspects of the relationship. Max was content with just kissing and holding him, although she had spent more than a few of her quiet moments exploring his body while he slept. She had discovered Logan not only smelled good, he tasted real nice, too.

He was also very ticklish.

The seventh morning after she had found her sister Max woke from one of her power naps to find herself sprawled over a very naked Logan. Last night she had stayed up with Tinga, but Case had woken up in the throes of a particularly nasty nightmare, so Max had returned earlier than usual. To her delight, she had discovered that Logan usually slept in the nude, and only had dressed for bed – just boxers, but it was the thought that counted – when Max was sharing it with him.

Even though Max had spent several nights at his apartment, and even a few of those perched on the armchair on his bedroom, watching him sleep, she had not noticed before that while he usually slept until mid morning, especially after a long night working on a case or keeping her company, there were certain parts of him that rose earlier.

And stayed up for a while, too.

She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing, picturing his face if he were to wake to find his favorite cat burglar draped all over him, wearing only one of his t-shirts and a huge, wicked smile. Assuming he would sleep a few hours more she dressed and went out for a drive.

***************************************

Logan woke only an hour later, and could still smell Max in the pillows. He smiled at the thought that a restless, wild jungle cat would choose to spend her nights curled up with him instead of prowling the streets. No, he didn't need Max to make any overt declaration of love; it was in these little details that he knew she shared his feelings.

Clearing his mind, he rose and went through his morning ritual, steeling himself to the task ahead. He had not told Max what he intended to do, because he was afraid she would misunderstand his intent.

Money wasn't power. Money didn't bought power. It was how you used that money that made a person powerful. And he had the money, and the means, to make a real difference on many lives.

He dressed and walked to the bakery where Tinga worked, hoping to have time for a private talk. He nodded to her as he entered, and waited for the only customer to leave, before asking her, in a low voice he knew Tinga would pick up, to meet him in the alley out back.

Her only reaction to his words was a slight tightening of her eyes, before nodding almost imperceptibly.

Logan left, and five minutes later Tinga joined him at the alley. She seemed relaxed, but Logan had spent too much time watching Max to be deceived by her nonchalant attitude: Tinga was tense and wary.

"Hi, Penny. I'm sorry to bother you at work, but I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Something Max doesn't need to know?"

Logan laughed softly at her blunt, direct manner. "Something like that, yes. No, I didn't say anything to Max about this, and I would hope you wouldn't either, but that's up to you. She can be a little...stubborn, sometimes. This is something I would've done when we first met, and it would've been a mistake, done for the wrong reasons. Now, I'm afraid that if I were to broach the subject again she would see it as a regression to my old self, rather than a genuine offer without conditions."

Tinga's gaze hardened as her stance turned from wary to almost hostile: then she cocked her head to the side, before relaxing and smiling at him.

"You're offering me money?"

Logan laughed, amused at how similar they were.

"Short answer, yes."

"And the long one?"

"Well, did Max tell you about the time we met?"

"Yes, she was stealing from your place, she run, you followed her, she run, she followed you, you made her an offer."

"Right. Did she tell you what was my offer? What was it about?"

"She told me you were some kind of investigative journalist, and tended to get into trouble. She told me about your injury, too."

"I see. Well, I asked for her help, in exchange in my assistance in tracking you, all of you. She's spent the last eleven years looking for you. But the fact is that I was a bit of an asshole before the shooting, and I almost offered money. I'm pretty sure she would've kicked my ass right there if I had. I try to help her anytime she needs it, but she's too independent, too proud to accept help. It landed her in jail a few months ago, I barely managed to get her out before Lydecker arrived."

"Yeah, about that. How the fuck did you found out about Manticore? Because I don't think Maxie just told you over beers."

"Actually, I had read some reports of Manticore about five years ago, some rumors and partial accounts about a transgenic super soldier project, and being the sci-fi nut that I am, I looked into it. Then I found a report about an escape, and then the orders to form a joint operation including several federal agencies, to coordinate the search for a group of escapees from a military installation in Wyoming in early March 2009. The task force dissolved within 48 hours of being called, and all records of it's existence an purpose were sanitized. I only found an old inter-office memo talking about it, and the twelve 'dangerous prisoners' it was supposed to locate.

After that I only found some scraps of information here and there, but a friend of mine, a real conspiracy theory nut, helped me put together a dossier. When I saw Max take down my ex-cop bodyguard in three seconds flat, and jump out the window to land unharmed ten floors below, I was almost sure. Then I did something stupid, something that almost cost me any hope of a future with her. I tricked her into letting me see her barcode. I don't think she's forgiven me for that, yet."

"Hmm. That's an interesting tale, Logan. But you still haven't told me what you wanted."

"It's simple. As you said, it involves money." he sighed, and took a moment to gather his thoughts "Before coming here, I left everything ready in case I didn't make it back alive. One of the things I did was to liquidate most of my assets. Right now it comes up to about 30 millions in several numbered accounts in Europe. My intention was to re-invest it once I returned, but in case I didn't, I left about half that money to Max. I know money doesn't buy happiness, trust me. But it helps keeping you alive."

"What are you saying exactly?"

"I'm offering to transfer one million into eleven separate accounts on my bank in Switzerland, and give the numbers and access codes over to you. Max never found any of you, and Zack refused to say anything, but I'm willing to bet you know where or how to contact some of the others. If and when you do, you can pass the accounts around, make sure you can eat, pay rent, buy new Id's, whatever you need. Also, once you retrieve the access codes, you can change them, even move the money somewhere else; after I give them over to you, the bank won't disclose any more information to me. That's the 'no strings attached' part. I don't want to know where you are, beyond letting Max know, if you chose to contact her. I really hope you will, all of you, but that's not a condition for the money."

"Why not tell her, then? It's a very generous thing to do, after all."

"Yeah, right. I'm afraid she'll see it as flashing money around: she doesn't mind me spending a thousand dollars in groceries to make her a three course dinner, but she almost kicked my ass when I tried to pay for her breakfast burrito. I want...I need to do this for you, for all of you."

"Why?"

"Guilt. Responsibility. My family's company has made several fortunes in the last forty years from defense contracts. And above everything, because you need help and no one else will give it to you. Call it an affectation of a bored rich guy, if it makes more sense to you."

"And you think she won't understand? Do you have so little faith in her?"

Logan sighed again, exhausted. When he looked back at Tinga, his face was set, determined.

"It's not that I think she wouldn't; I'm afraid the might not. And I can't deal with the idea of losing her, even over something that I feel so strongly about." Logan chuckled, amused. "Hell, especially about something like that. Tinga, I...I don't think I could live without her. Not anymore. Not for a while, now. That's why I'm the one making this offer. And it's just that, an offer. Take of leave it, no strings attached, no second guesses, no conditions. Well, except to keep her out. I'm not asking you to lie, just don't say anything, no matter what you chose."

"Why, Logan? What's with the super hero complex you have going on? What do you do exactly? And how is Maxie involved in that? You say you can't live without her, but what if she needs to-"

"I'll drive her to Canada myself. I've done it before. I'd rather have her alive across the world than risk her safety. But until it's necessary for her to run, I want her with me. She's my partner in crime, my best friend...and yes, she's the love of my life. I've had many relationships, Tinga. I've even been married, a long time ago. All that pales compared to what I feel for her." Logan smiled, amused. "So now that you've given me 'the talk', will you think about it? We're leaving the day after tomorrow, but you can reach me, us, in fact, in Seattle."

"Really? You're giving me your phone number? That's very risky, you know? I might be compromised." The words were Zack's, but the smile was as mischievous as Max's. He laughed again, happy that Max had finally found the family she'd been looking for.

"Don't worry. Here." Logan threw his cellphone to Tinga. "The chip's been scrubbed clean, it's encrypted and untraceable. The first speed dial is my cell, the second is Max's."

"Really? All this time I had a cellphone and I kept wasting change on pay phones every time you called? How _stupid_ of me!"

Logan froze. As soon as Max spoke he felt her behind his back. He resisted the urge to flinch, and kept his gaze on Tinga.

"Wait...I don't remember having a cellphone! How's that even possible, _Loogie_?"

"Because I didn't give it to you yet. It's another encrypted cell, I have several around, just in case one gets compromised. By the way, how long have you been there?" he looked back at Tinga. "And how long have you known she was there, for that matter?"

"A better question, _Loogie_, is what the fuck do you think you're doing? Didn't you get the memo about lying to me?"

"Max..."

"NO! It's just a simple question! Why did you do it? Why offer money to my family? Why hide it from me?"

"You know the answers, Max. In want to help them because they deserve to be helped, and I can do it. And I didn't want you to know because I feared you would take it the wrong way-"

"Ha! Fear? The all-powerful Eyes Only is afwaaid of me?"

Logan didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. He knew the next thing he said could mark the end of his relationship with Max.

"Yes, Max. I'm afraid. I'm afraid you'll have to rum, and I won't be able to follow, or even help you. I'm afraid one day your seizures will be too strong for the pills, and I'll lose you. I'm afraid one day you'll wake up and realize I'm old and broken, and you'll leave me. Any way you want to look at it, I'm terrified something will happen to keep you away from me. I'm scared shitless of having to face another day without you by my side. I love you more than words can explain, and I fear it won't be enough...so yes, I'm afraid, Max."

Max stared at Logan with hard, narrowed eyes. She turned to look at her sister, exchanged a flurry of hand signals and turned back to him. Max took a few steps closer, and then slapped him. Hard.

Logan found himself sitting in the ground, ears ringing, the soft mid-morning sun making improbable shapes on the walls of the alley. He shook his head, and looked up at Max.

"That's for trying to keep things from me. I warned you about this, Logan."

Logan couldn't bear to look at her, but he forced himself to do so. It was likely the last time he would see his goddess, he might as well get it imprinted. He was ready to be hit again, to be yelled at, spat on. He wasn't ready to find Max straddling him on the floor, arms hugging his neck, her lips tearing at his, hungry, demanding. The kiss lasted a couple of minutes before Max moved away a little, giving him a parting nip on the chin. Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she caressed his face, his hair, his chest...

"Max...?"

"That, was for being the best boyfriend/sidekick/underground cyber journalyst a girl could hope for. I understand your doubts, Logan. If you had made the offer before we came here, you would've been correct. But I'm not going to get pissed just because you want to share your money with my family. God knows you waste it like it grew on trees or sumpthin'. But you lie to me again, and I'll make you wish you never regained feeling on your lower extremities, honey. All of them. You understand?"

"Yeah..."

Max gripped his face, pinching his cheeks and dragged him closer until their noses touched.

"Say 'I understand', Logan"

"I understand!"

"Good boy." Max patted his cheek and stood up, sauntering toward Tinga, who gave her a proud smile. As they began to leave the alley, she stopped, turned and spoke to him. "Come on, Logan! It's your turn to buy lunch."

Logan stared at the retreating women, too stunned for words. Then he stood up, and started laughing. He was still laughing as he reached them in the street.

_Only Max..._

***************************************

A bright Saturday morning three days later Max and Logan were preparing to go home.

Max wished she could stay, spend more time with Tinga and her family, but she was long overdue to go back to work; Logan had called him and asked to have Max stay over to run errands and carry his messages for two weeks, for a hefty retainer fee, of course. Max had objected, pissed off because Logan was throwing money around to do things for her, and more importantly because he was throwing it a _Normal_. She finally calmed down when Logan pointed out that a two-week vacation would've cost them almost as much, and she would get to spent that time with Tinga. But the two weeks had come and gone, and her pager was beeping almost every hour.

After saying goodbye they had rode to the exit checkpoint, Logan in his car and Max on her baby. Logan had again suggested she load the bike in the back of the SUV and ride with him, but the look Max gave him put a stop to that idea.

As they approached the line Max swerved to avoid one of the many water-filled holes on the road that still remained even after a week without rain, when she run over a piece of scrap metal and slashed her front tire. Normally Logan would've suggested going back and try to get it fixed, but they were almost at the front of the line and it would've taken a lot of time and trouble for Logan to leave. Besides, Sector cops frowned on people running away suddenly from them...

Logan Parked the car on the curb and went to help her, but found that she already had a small group of men surrounding her. A group of cops...

He approached them slowly, trying to calm himself, when he heard Max's loud, angry voice ranting, and the amused answers of one of the cops.

"...you can always leave it here, we'll take good care of her...."

"OK, let me make it clear. NOBODY TOUCHES MY BABY!"

Logan was surprised when her growl was met with good natured laugher. He circled them and moved to stand next to Max.

"Hey. What do you want to do?"

"Excuse me, sir? Can we help you?" This came from the youngest cop, who stood up straight and puffed his chest. The effect was less than desired, as he barely reached Logan's shoulder. This, too, made the other cops laugh. Max just huffed in annoyance and jerked her thumb at Logan.

"Don't mind him, he's just my boyfriend."

This drew interested looks from all the men, especially the younger one, who looked crestfallen at the news.

"Hey, if he's your boyfriend, how come he's riding alone?"

Max opened her mouth to snap back at him, but Logan beat her to it.

"Well, I tried to get her to ride with me, and put the bike in the back, but she loves that monster..."

"What, she doesn't love you as much as the bike? That's sad..." The other men snickered and looked at the men, and started whispering among themselves. Logan just smirked, put his arm around Max's waist and smiled brightly at the younger man.

"Nah, she's in love with that bike. I only get the sex." Then he winked.

That sent the older cops in another fit of laughter, and earned him and elbow to the ribs from Max.

"Behave _Robert_, or you're not getting any for a long, long time."

Logan just chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

"OK, honey. So, what do you want to do? Ride with me, or spend the next two days searching for a spare?"

Max growled at him, but after a few moments she wheeled her bike to the SUV, and soon they were on the road. Max was still a little pissed, but she had to admit she didn't really mind spending the next two hours – make it four, Logan drove like an old lady – curled next to him.

On the highway the radio reception was practically nil, so she started rummaging through the stack of Cd's on the glove box, making faces and clucking her tongue at Logan's selection. Then she remembered somethin she had found on sale while she roamed Portland, and fetched the Cd from her backpack and put it on.

Logan smiled as the familiar sounds of Beyonce's Halo filled the car. Then grimaced as Max cranked up the volume and started singing along. He sighed in relief as the song ended...and then begun again, this time a different version. He picked up the Cd case, and sure enough it was the Single release, containing four different versions of the same song.

He groaned.

"Come on Max, you're not going to listen to all of them, right?"

"Of course. I like this song." She leaned over him, putting her left arm over his headrest while his right hand caressed his thigh. She let her lips caress his ear playfully before whispering "Come on Loogie...We kissed for the first time to this song." Max tilted her head to the side, looking pensive "Come to think of it, we also had our second, third and fourth kiss listening to this. And you also got to second base, so I don't see how you can complain."

Logan groaned at the effect she was having on him, but managed to answer.

"Our first kiss was at the cabin, and while I appreciate the sentiment, I'd like to have a little variety in my music."

Max leaned back into her seat and crossed her arms.

"Well, though luck. I like it, and I think I will listed to all the songs. And then I might listen to them again. You know, until..."

"Until...?"

"Until we make it back home."

"What? But that's like three hours!"

"Again. I like it. Deal with it. Besides, we could get there faster if I was at the wheel. You drive like my grandmother."

"Max, you don't have a grandmother!" The moment those words came out of his mouth Logan wanted to die. He hated doing anything that reminded Max of her peculiar origins, and her birth was certainly one of them. He looked at her, trying to apologize, but to his surprise Max only smirked.

"Considering I was carried to term by a surrogate, I had a mother, and therefore a grandmother. And I'm sure you drive just like her. Hell, she's related to me, she probably drives faster than you, old man."

Logan was so distracted that he couldn't take his eyes off of her, which is a very bad idea while driving. Max laughed evilly as she reached for the steering wheel and corrected their course, narrowly avoiding rear ending another car. Logan cursed loudly while he stopped by the nearest shoulder to give his frayed nerves a chance to recover.

Max almost falling to the floor laughing certainly wasn't helping him.

"God Max! You're going to drive me to an early grave if you keep that up!"

Max wiped tears from her eyes as she looked back at him.

"Hey, nobody told you to go and fall in love with a genetically engineered super soldier/bad ass biker chick. You're just asking for it."

"Yeah, laugh it up now, when we get home we have three weeks worth of Eyes Only work to catch up to, so enjoy your free time while it lasts" He snapped back. Max sat up as all the mirth left her face.

"What????" She couldn't believe it, after all that happened, all the promises and kisses it was just back to business as usual? Then she saw his smirk and the glint of triumph on his green eyes, and understood.

"Well, nobody told you to fall in love with an underground super hero obsessed with his crusade to save the world. It's your own fault, really."

They looked at one another for a moment before laughing again. Logan unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned toward Max, caressing her face.

"Oh, and I love you, by the way."

"Well, now that you mention it, I love you too."

They sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence like they had so many times before. Only this time they were more than friends. She had called him 'boyfriend', twice in fact, and he intended to play that to the hilt.

"So now what, Max?"

"Oh, Loogie! You forgot already? As I told you before," Max leaned to him again "I want to listen to this song, honey."

Logan groaned as her low, throaty laughter was drowned by the song. Then he saw with dismay Max had put the whole disc on repeat. He gave her a desperate look.

"Please, Max. Tell me what I can do. I really don't want to spend the next three hours listening to the same!"

"Well...there's one thing you could do..."

"What? Anything, just tell me."

"You could drive faster." she purred in his ear, before sitting back laughing.

Logan closed his eyes a moment, gathering his thoughts before fastening his seatbelt and flooring the car. If he pushed it he could make it in just under two hours. He shook his head in amazement at the woman singing softly next to him.

'_Only Max..._'

The end

AN2: Many, many thanks to all who came along for this ride, and a special thank you to **Mari** for all her help and input, without it this would've been a dull tale, and probably would still be in the works. Your full-sized marzipan – nekkid, of course – Logan is in the mail ;)

And thanks to **Montana-Rosalie** for her wishes, they made this little trip to Portland possible. Hope you enjoyed it!

Peace. Out.

12


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